And Three Makes Five
by Sunny Day in February
Summary: After being apart from each other for months, Lovino and Antonio are ready to live their lovey-dovey lives with each other again! However, when they wake up one day and discover there are freaking CHILDREN running around their House, things get a little... different. Rated M, because Spamano.
1. Quote 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Well – here I am again!_^^ _Hi!~  
__First of all… I'VE GRADUATED! Yaaaaay! I'm actually becoming an adult – how's that!  
__So! Let's get busy, shall we? As most of my "old" readers might know, I have studied Pedagogiek (Pedagogy – sadly enough a study that's not recognized as a study outside of Europe). Pedagogiek has got a lot to do with… well, kids. And how to make them develop the way they __**should**__ develop. Now, I love kids. Babies, toddlers, schoolkids, teens – I love working with them, since they're all special and interesting.  
__Anyway, as a result of my studies (and the promise made in the ending of Bottoms-Up), this fic will be heavy influenced by… well, kids.  
__In this Spamano-fic, our happily-married couple Toni and Lovi will become fathers. __**NOT **__the Mpreg way, since that creeps the shit out of me, and also not by adoption, but still.  
__I know it's risky to throw in some kids to the Spamano-stew. I know that most people don't like to read about OC's and other weird bitches, and really, why __**would**__ you?  
__Also, the tone of the fic will be more serious. Yep. Yepperdeyep yep. __Still, you should give it a shot. Who knows, maybe you'll even like it?_^^

_A/n2: I remember saying "I hope this fic will become even more popular than This Dance!~" or something like that when I started writing Bottoms-Up, so it's tempting to write that same sentence here again, just to see what happens. But there's __**no **__**possible **__**way**__ I'll ever be able to top my last fic (I mean, gaaaah, over 3700 effing reviews!), so I'll just shut up and start writing already. _

_A/n3: Okay, one last thing and then I'll start writing for sure. In this fic, don't expect the kids popping up right away, because it'll take a little while. Also, I may or may not have improved my English grammar. I'll probably won't write too many dot-dot-dot-sentences, either. Then again, I'll just continue using 'these' apostrophes instead of "these", because… well, I'm used to it, really. Hope you don't mind!  
__And now, prepare yourself for some mild drama and loving and all that corny stuff – you know you love it._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 1:

**A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.**  
_Ralph Waldo Emerson  
__(American lecturer, essayist and poet)_

'Mister South Italy?'

'Hnnnmmnn…'

'Sir?'

'WhatisitdammitIwasalmostsleeping.'

'I'm not sure what you said, mister South Italy, but… we're almost there, sir.'

'Whuh?'

I opened my eyes a little bit and sat up, my back aching from the horrible position I had been lying in this entire time (that's why I hated attempting to sleep in the back of a car, dammit, you _ruin_ your back) and rubbed my eyes.

'Sorry, could you say that again, mister… erm… mister… driver… man?'

'We're almost there,' the patient taxi driver repeated. Bastard didn't tell me his name. Well fuck you _too_ then.

'We're there? Now that's vague. Where's there?' I asked, stretching myself as good as I could, my joints cracking and popping in delight.

'We're at…' The man behind the wheel shuddered and winced upon hearing the cracking and popping sounds. 'W-we're at mister Spain's House, mister South Italy. You know, the place you requested me to bring you? We're almost—'

'Really? We're almost there? You – you're _serious_?' I interrupted him, and instantly pressed my greyish-from-lack-of-sleep-face against the window. An indescribable feeling of happiness, longing and excitement welled up inside of me when I indeed saw the vague appearances of Antonio's House showing up in the not-so-far distance.

'A-Antonio…' I whispered, dramatically sliding my fingers up and down the condensed glass, and felt myself tearing up when I caught a glimpse of my wedding ring, glittering in the sunlight of the slowly setting red ball in the evening sky of Madrid.

'I-I'm coming home… I'm coming home at last, Antonio…'

'Please stop clawing at the windows, sir, I just washed them.'

…

Oh no he _didn't_.

Just like that, I lost my rare sentimental mood and turned my head to glare at the driver – baggy-eyed or not baggy-eyed.

'Do you fucking _mind_? Does my being-happy about finally seeing my fucking perfect husband again _annoy you_, you senseless _bastard_? Shit, give me a _break_, dammit!'

The man looked over his shoulders, startled. 'W-well, excuse me, but I'm—'

'No! Shut up! Do you have any fucking _idea_ just how _awful_ the past few months have been for me?'

'Um—'

'_No_ you haven't! I haven't seen Antonio in freaking _months_! I haven't decently _slept_ in months, either! I'm so damn tired and exhausted, I feel like crying and sleeping at the same time! But I can't! Too tiresome! So instead, I just claw at your damn window! Hell, I claw at the window as much as I want to, _**dammit**_!'

'S-sorry, I didn't know—'

'And you can't stop me! Look, I'm already doing it! I'm clawing at the windows, oohh, somebody _stop _me, I'm making fucking _lines_ on the glass!'

'S-sir, please…'

'_What_! What the flipping fuck _is it_, mister nameless-driver-who-can-see-his-partner-each-and-e very-day-of-the-year?'

'N-no, it's nothing.'

'You're damn _right_ it's nothing!'

Satisfied, I sat back and folded my arms, huffing and glaring and frowning and…

…and feeling pretty mean. Meaner than I had been in a very long time.

God. Looks like my returning to Antonio's House was a very good thing on many, many levels.

Antonio.

I looked out of the window again – and kept my hands to myself in the end anyway, since I wanted to show the hunched driver I actually was a pretty nice guy, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep inside – and swallowed a big lump that had formed inside my throat.

A-Antonio…

I-I can't wait to see you again, d-dammit…

**\0o0/**

When Antonio and I were busy enjoying our lovely honeymoon in Barcelona a couple of months ago, shit hit the fucking fan.

In Europe, that is.

As for me and Antonio, we were still…

…d-doing good.

W-we were still really _in_ _love_ with each other and stuff, I mean. Shit. Of _course_ we were. I fucking loved him, dammit, and he loved me, so that was all nice and peachy and sweet and huggable and…

I should either shut the fuck up or get to the damn _point_ already and scrape that blush off my face.

Right.

So, anyway…

While the two of us were off enjoying our romantic alone-time together in one of Spain's most beautiful cities, in which we admired multiple wonderful buildings, ate tons of dishes that were wonderful as well and had gloriously wonderful sex whenever we saw an opportunity to have gloriously wonderful sex (on the bed, in bath, up a wall, on the ground, heck, we were so horny, we even did it in the van, during that freaking cramped-up, touristic tour around Barcelona – now _that_ was a "ride" I wasn't going to forget any day soon), the entire European continent had apparently slipped into _total fucking __**despair**_.

It always did that whenever I was having fun, dammit.

Spain was a mess.

Portugal was a mess.

Belgium was a mess.

Greece was a mess.

And Italy, Italy was a fucking mess as well.

But to be brutally honest, most countries on the continent were, one way or the other, a complete motherfucking mess. Even the really wealthy ones. If the economy wasn't the issue, politics, foreign relations and religions were, and everybody knows just how much all of that sucks balls.

So yeah.

Eventually, one panicky European problem led to another one, and so, in the end, my new boss called me on a cloudy afternoon during my and Antonio's honeymoon – and at a really inconvenient time too: we were just watching a really sappy movie (shut it, that was Antonio's fucking idea, not mine) together on our hotel room that made me want to kiss him and hold onto him and keep on kissing and holding on to him for the rest of the night.

Anyway, after explaining the sad situation in Europe to me, my boss didn't ask me and Antonio to return – nooo, he _demanded _it, telling me he had discussed the matter with the Spanish king, who also thought it would be best if Antonio and I would come back to our Houses as soon as possible.

'Um. Yeah,' I had said, scratching the back of my head while watching Antonio laughing at something stupid that happened in the movie. 'It's too bad we have to return earlier, but I understand. So. Um. Okay, when do you want me and Antonio to be back in the House?'

It suddenly became awfully quiet on the other side of the phone…line…thing.

'Sir?' I said, frowning.

'_South Italy,' _my boss slowly said, something sounding a lot like regret in his voice, _'I don't think you quite understand me. When I said that you and Spain should go back to your Houses, I actually really meant House__**s**__.'_

I suddenly felt a bit worried.

'What?'

My boss sighed. _'I'm sorry, but you and your brother are needed in Italy. In your __**own**__ House. And Spain is needed in __**his**__ own House.'_

'What?' I said again, now _definitely_ worried.

Antonio noticed my freaked-out expression, pressed on the pause-button (that reminded me, I should kick his cheeky ass the next time he just continued watching a movie without waiting for me, dammit) and gave me a questioning look.

'What's the matter, Lovi?'

'Shhhh!' I hissed at him, and turned my attention back to the conversation I was having with my boss.

'So, sir, are you saying that we should go back to our own Houses?'

'_That's right. For the sake of Europe. For the sake of Italy.' _

'So…'

I stared at Antonio, who stared back at me with eyes that probably were just as big as mine. For somebody who couldn't read the atmosphere most of the time, he sure did a good job at it now.

I gulped and gripped my phone a bit tighter.

'…so I can't stay at Antonio's place? But you know about our marriage, right?'

'_I know. You just got married.' _He uttered another sigh – but this one was an annoyed one.

'_South Italy. Please don't forget that, before you are an actual person, you are the spirit of at least half a nation. A nation that needs you – and that must ask you to say goodbye to Spain for now and return to your House in Italy.'_

'I—'

'_Also, you knew from the start that you weren't going to be able to officially live in the same House as him.'_

I widened my eyes even more.

Oh.

Yes, that was true. I remembered.

'_I'm really sorry. I understand your situation, but do you understand __**our **__situation?' _my boss asked me, trying to sound friendlier now.

'Yeah. I understand,' I muttered.

'_I'm glad you do.' _He breathed out in relief. _'I expect you back in Italy as soon as possible. Contact my agent when you're there.'_

'I will.'

'_That will be all for now. Good day, South Italy.'_

'Uh-huh.'

I hang up.

Then I started biting my lower lip, staring at my phone.

Fucking shitty thing. I knew I really _should_ _have_ tossed it into the water when Antonio and I sat in the park today and jokingly told each other how nice it would be if we could just fling our phones into the body of water in front of us and carry on living like this.

D-dammit.

Finally, I put my phone back in my pocket, took a deep, cold gulp of air, and raised my face to meet Antonio's saddened, but still very beautiful green eyes.

'Antonio. Did you get all of that, or,' I exhaled shakily, 'o-or do I need to explain to you what that conversation was about?'

'No, no. I got it, Lovino.'

Antonio pursed his lips together and, after a few seconds of silently staring at me, put his hand reassuring on my own, clenched one, lying just next to him.

'Lovi?'

'What, dammit…' I sighed.

He smiled and scooted closer to me, squeezing my hand. 'I'd love to see you again when all of this is over.'

…

He'd love to see me when all of this was…

_Goddammit_.

I stared at him, fighting against hot, burning tears. Then I shook my head furiously.

'No. I-I don't want to be separated from you.'

'Sweetie…'

'I _don't _want to be separated from you!'

'Lovino, Lovino…'

Antonio came closer and wrapped his arms around me.

'You're my husband!' I stammered, hugging him back as the same tears now started rolling down my cheeks. 'Y-you're my fucking _husband_! I don't want to be away from you! I-I want to be _with_ you!'

'I-I know, I know.' Antonio swallowed, his eyes glassy and unsteady as well, and pushed my face into his chest. 'So do I, my love… so do I. Of course I want to be with you. But… ah, you could say it was about time that… things went _very much_ downhill in Europe. We all sure had a lot of free time over the last few months, even while we all knew we probably _shouldn't_ have so much of it, so—'

'I don't want to hear it!' I gritted my teeth and looked up to him. 'I-I don't fucking _care_ whether I have much free time or no free time at all – I only want us to be together when we come back from… from work, or _whatever_ that shit is that we do is! Because that's what married people do: they come home in the same house! Is… is that too much to fucking ask?'

'Calm down, sweetie… ah, come here for a second.'

Antonio raised my chin and kissed me on the lips.

I wanted to whine something, but as always as he kissed me, I felt myself getting less angry – and I moaned softly into the tender kiss, grabbing the front of his shirt.

When he pulled back and gently stroke his hand up and down my cheek, he was happy to see I had relaxed and calmed down a bit.

'Feeling better again?' he asked me.

'_No_,' I huffed, blushing.

'Ohh, but I think you are!~'

'And _I_ think you should watch your _face_. Before I throw a _fish _against it.'

'A _fish_, Lovi?' Antonio blinked confusedly.

I was just as confused, but not for long.

'Fish? Wha—no, not a freaking _fish_, I-I meant a _fist_, you dense moron, a _fist_, dammit! You should know I meant _that_!'

'I don't know, for some reason, I can see you ruthlessly smacking a fish in my face.'

My face started to twitch – in a pleasant way.

'N-now _why_ the _fuck_ would I be swinging around _fishes_! That's… that's fucking ridiculous!'

'I know – but the image made you laugh, didn't it?~'

His smile softened.

Not knowing what to say, I just furrowed my brows at him. I also automatically touched the corners of my own mouth… and yes, they were indeed tilted upwards. Not as much as his, but still.

'Moron,' I mumbled, leaning more against him.

Antonio sank a hand into my hair and ran it through the uncoordinated brown mess (because, plot twist, my hair actually isn't _hair_, but unruly, supposedly brushable heaps of _evil_).

'Please feel better, Lovino. I don't like it when you're upset.'

'I-I know. But this is just… _gah_.'

I closed my eyes for a bit, enjoying his careful, wandering touches.

'I just… I-I wish we could live _normally_. Like a… I don't know, like a _family_.'

'Like a family, Lovi?'

'Yeah. A real one. A human one.'

'Sounds nice. Let's get us one of those one day, okay?'

Antonio grinned playfully at me and winked.

'Jackass,' I muttered, although there was a slightly bigger smile appearing on my face.

'Sweetheart,' Antonio countered.

My face instantly deepened its already fairly reddish color.

'F-fuck you!'

'Okay.'

'What?'

'I said okay.'

Antonio moved his face closer to my own and kissed my warm cheeks, before falling on his back and dragging me on top of him.

'A-Antonio,' I stuttered, awkwardly moving around in-between his spread legs, 'w-what are you…'

'Who knows when we're seeing each other again after today, Lovino,' he muttered, his hands skillfully unbuttoning my shirt, 'so let's have a good, last round before packing our things and going back. Okay?'

'Y-you sure?' I frowned a bit – but I had already made up my mind, since I slipped my hands into his loose pants and slowly followed the curves of his round, delicious butt.

_God_, I loved his ass.

Antonio let out a breathy laugh as I shyly kissed his jaw and carried on rubbing his behind.

'Oh, I'm sure, my love… I'm sure.'

'O-okay…'

'…hnnm… you got to hurry up a bit, though… we… _ah_… we probably have no time to lose…'

I pulled down his pants and snorted. 'Do I look like I fucking care?'

'You look handsome.' He smiled and collected my face in his hands.

'S-so do you,' I murmured.

'I love you.'

'I love you too…'

'I…'

He gasped quietly when I clumsily pushed a finger into him.

'I'll… I'll miss you, Lovi…'

'S-shut up…' I whimpered, and whimpered some more when Antonio pressed our lips together and made sure that they _stayed_ together, the whole time, in spite of our panting, moaning, jolting movements and heaving breathing.

It was good.

And yet it was bad.

Because… I really can't remember the last time I cried this much during sex.

**\0o0/**

That same day, Antonio and I collected our things and belongings, spitefully lingered when we were checking out of the lobby of the hotel and, ultimately, drove back home.

No, wait – Antonio drove me back to my House.

Not our home.

My _House_. In Italy.

After dropping me off, kissing me goodbye, and telling me he'd call me when he was back in Spain, he drove away, grinning and waving and giving me ridiculous kissy-hands (I remembered yelling 'Hands on the fucking _wheel_, you idiot!' at him while fucking _bawling my eyes out_), and then I was all alone.

Totally, utterly _alone_…

…until a slightly tanned Feliciano (I guess the weather was sunny in Germany) showed up fifteen minutes later, crying loudly and clasping a depressed-looking German potato, who had to struggle for another fifteen minutes before he could hand over my snot-faced brother to me.

After that, he nodded at me, hugged Feliciano one last time and quickly hopped back into his ugly car.

And then we were all alone again, Feliciano and me.

I mean, sure, we were together, but…

_God_, were we so _alone_.

**\0o0/**

Looking back, I guess we were alone together like this for at least, well, three, four months.

Yes.

Three to four _months_.

Not just us – _every single European nation_ was three to four months all by his/herself.

Trying to stabilize things in the countries they were representing, motivating the bosses, helping them to come up with new plans to improve the European economy, allowing them to do research and tests on us personifications so they could observe and determine just how bad or how good the country's doing and how it's responding to their interventions and what-not…

It was a very feverish, tense, anxious, unsure and unpleasant period.

And the worst of all was that all this time…

I didn't see Antonio. Not even _once_.

I didn't have time – and neither did he – to drop by, so that was just plain awful.

Fortunately, we still were able to call each other, which we _did_, every day, mostly right before we went off to bed.

During those calls, I'd tell him what I had done that day and that I missed him, and then he'd tell me what he had done that day and that he missed me, too, and then we continued whining 'I love you' and 'I want to see you' for at least an hour, before hanging up and feeling slightly less or sometimes even more miserable.

Sleeping was a fucking big task as well, since I couldn't, unless Antonio was there to hold me.

But he wasn't.

So I couldn't.

Really, it's that simple.

'Veee, you love _me_ too, right? So why don't you try it with me?' Feliciano had suggested when I told him about my weird selective insomnia thing, 'I mean, I feel lonely without Luddy as well, after all. Let's brotherly hug each other to bits!~'

'Touch me and you're fucking _dead_,' I had snarled back at him – and so I naturally ended up sleeping with a snoring, drooling and farting Feliciano anyway, because it's still much better than an empty bed, dammit.

Sure, near the end of these exhausting three/four months, I probably must have slept a _little_ bit, just because even my stubborn body at some point gave up its struggling against the sleep, but that didn't mean I slept very _well_. Nightmares and sweaty sheets all over the place, dammit.

It was all just so very much _awful._

Going to the boring meetings.

Listening to the unsettling problems.

Accepting the sometimes humiliating tests.

Communicating with many important, but scary people.

Living without Antonio.

…

F-fucking _torture_.

**\0o0/**

And then, all of a sudden, Feliciano and I were allowed to be together with the ones we loved again.

_Bam_, just like that.

On the day of our final meeting, right before it started and Feliciano and while I were hanging out in front of the conference room, somewhere in a big and beautiful building in Rome, an European agent came to us and told us that this would be the last national meeting we'd have – for _now_.

'Of course, this doesn't mean that you can sit back and relax,' the man continued when Feliciano and I drowsily stared at him, hope _shining _in our eyes, 'because you still need to attend the European meetings.'

'European meetings?' my brother repeated.

'Does that mean that we can, um, well, _leave_ Italy?' I asked, as always thinking a teeny tiny bit faster than Feliciano.

The man smiled understandingly at us.

'Yes. You may go to the ones you love.'

...

...

It...

It was the best news we heard in months.


	2. Quote 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: To all the people that are have responded so enthusiastically to my return: you are kind and wonderful and sparkly and I will cry if you keep telling me such fantastic things, so here's a digital hug. _*tearfully embraces her PC* _Huzzah! _

_A/n2: Okay, so this time, I've chosen to use quotations of famous people about children and the like as chapter names. Yaaaay!~  
__Did I do a lot of research about whether it's really said by the famous persons? No – and I really hope you don't mind that too much. I'm just using it for fun, after all…_

_A/n2: Because I want to avoid writing chapters that are insanely long (again), I'm making my chapters a bit shorter. Not because I want to be mean! It's just that I've learned that writing huge chapters isn't really good for your social life, or mental stability or whatever.  
__So go ahead and read – in the meantime, I'll hide somewhere safe, because… well, you'll notice. _*flees*

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 2:

**People who get nostalgic about childhood were obviously never children.**  
_Bill Watterson  
__(American artist and comic author)_

Well, both me and Feliciano were fucking _ecstatic_ when we heard that we were able to get together with our husbands again, of course – and we immediately called both Antonio and Germany to tell them the good news.

…just to make this _very _clear: _I_ called Antonio and _Feliciano_ called Germany, because no way in hell I'd ever call that blonde creep, dammit, and if Feliciano had the fucking guts to inform Antonio _before _I did, I'd break his legs. Like… _**SNAP-TITS**_.

…

It's a word alright. I just wrote it in the dictionary myself. It means "breaking Feliciano's legs" and "go fucking fuck yourself if you don't like my fucking word".

Anyway, I told Feliciano that I'd go snap-tits on his legs if he dared to call Antonio – and he happily said he'd break mine as well if I had the guts to inform Germany before him, so don't feel sorry for that little bastard, he was just as fucking _mental_ and short-on-love as I was right now.

So naturally, he instantly broke down crying all emotional and shit when he called Germany to tell him the good news – and so did Antonio, that wussy wreck, when I called _him_.

'_Oh god, finally! Finally, finally, __**finally**__! My Lovi's coming home… I-I'm so happy… My boss already told me he would tell me something good after today's meeting – you must have beat him to it! Oh! Lovi, I'm… I love you! I love you so much, sweetie!~'_

I had sniveled a bit as well, but not as much as Antonio, of course.

'I-I-I love you t-too, dammit…'

See? I was so controlled and manly, I could cry. But I didn't.

'_Please… please come home right after your last meeting, okay?'_

'I-I was intending to.'

'_I missed you.'_

'I-I missed you too…'

'_It'll be so great to be around you again…'_

'Y-yeah…'

'_Although I'll miss the phone-sex.'_

I should have seen that one coming.

I temporary snapped out of it and groaned in annoyance (and perhaps a bit in embarrassment as well).

'_Lovi?' _Antonio said upon hearing my irritated growling.

'You're a fucking pervert, you know that? Are you _really_ going to miss that?'

'_Sweetie, you know what I mean.'_

I huffed nevertheless. 'R-_real_ sex with you is better than stupid… stupid phone-sex, dammit.'

'_It is.'_

'Y-yes.'

'_Are you up for it?'_

'For what?'

'_I-I want to be with you… I want to be intertwined with you, Lovino. I want… I want to hold and kiss and embrace you and make love to you whole day long and __**never**__ let our stupid bosses take you away from me again.'_

I clenched the phone. 'A-Antonio…'

'_It's just… I want to do all these… th-these things with you again. Is that okay with you, my love?'_

'F-fuck, y-you know you can do with me whatever the hell you want to do with me, Antonio, I…'

I noticed a few men and women standing at the lobby, staring at me with eyes and mouth wide open.

Well crap.

'…a-and I'd like to have some cheese on top of that, yes, and a lot of tomato sauce, too!' I hastily continued.

Antonio laughed softly. '_People are looking at me kind of funny as well, Lovino!~ But that's okay. I don't care. I just want you to be here with me. That's no crime.'_

'Sexing me up in public _is_!' I hissed. 'I'm _sure_ it is!'

'_Like you should talk.'_

'S-shut up.'

'_I love you, Lovino.'_

'Yeah…'

I gulped and lowered my head.

'I-I love you too, Antonio.'

**\0o0/**

After this ridiculously emotional phone conversation, Feliciano and I quickly prepared ourselves to get the shitting hell out of Italy faster than a hungry Italian soldier would run out of a dangerous area filled with creepy English bastards that wanted to blow his head off with nasty scone-bombs, which naturally is _crazily_ fast.

My brother and I told each other goodbye, stay well, whatever, I'll probably see you tomorrow at the meeting anyway, get _off my fucking back_, Feliciano, you _assface_, and then we hopped into the cabs that had promised us to take us to our lovers and left.

Well okay, not the _cabs_ had promised us that, but the drivers. Or at least the man the drivers were working for – our _boss_.

That was very nice of him. Hell, I already liked my new boss a lot more than the old one, if only for the fact he seemed to care a lot more about me and my brother's well-being than the old one.

But anyway, Feliciano's car drove north, in the direction of Germany, of course, while my own cab driver headed for a direction somewhere southwest of South Italy.

Spain.

He was heading for Spain.

_Yes_.

And it really wasn't that bad either, the entire trip to Spain. The car was air-conditioned, the driver didn't talk too much and I had all the time and space to mentally prepare myself for meeting Antonio again, after all these months…

…but I didn't really do that a lot, since I was feeling way too pooped out to focus on everything that was going to happen after I had arrived in Spain, so I just sat a bit and stared out of the window, sometimes nodding off and then violently waking up all of a sudden again, you know the drill…

And then we suddenly were in Spain!

We… we suddenly were in Spain.

I was almost home. And I hadn't even noticed it!

Of course, the taxi driver was the one to blame. Stupid cocky nameless bastard loved his goddamn car and its wellbeing a bit too much to my liking. But no, no no, Lovino, you have to stay realistic. And nice. I'm sure he had his reasons.

…

He probably got that car to compromise for something that _wasn't_ just as big. Ohhh, _**burn**_!

…

Damn. The sooner I got to meet Antonio, the better. The world would sigh in relief.

**\0o0/**

You know, when the cab driver _waltzed_ his car over the still very much flattened fence of Antonio's House, I instantly felt like bawling and telling the infamous story about how and why that fence got so damn flat, like some old, sentimental geezer.

But, as you no doubt expected from a manly man as yours truly, I didn't – I just swallowed my annoying womanly tendency to cry, got out of the car, said an almost mechanical goodbye and thank-you to the asshole driver and, hell, I even watched him flailing around his car over the fence for a little while, until he was able to get away.

Then I immediately went inside the House.

I really didn't have many thoughts right then – I just wanted to go inside that gorgeous House, find its gorgeous owner (wait, no, its original owner apparently wasn't Antonio but some fat and ugly Spanish aristocrat) I mean _resident_, and then…

Well, I don't know what was going to happen then. I hadn't planned anything, to be honest. I didn't think of anything clever or touching to say.

But I did bring a fresh new tube of lubricant with me.

…

Don't fucking judge me, dammit. _That_ stuff expires, too.

Anyway…

As I walked into the hallway, I momentarily got overcome by feelings of melancholy. As if I had walked into a wonderful world I only knew from my dreams, which really isn't that weird once you realize I haven't been home for fucking _months_. I mean, shit, in my fantasies, whenever I was feeling lonely in Italy, I always thought of this House and all its silly rooms, windows, colors and the wonderful warmth everything about the House was emitting.

It didn't reduce my loneliness that much, but it prevented me from forgetting the place I felt so comfortable at. I was really scared that would happen. That I'd forget everything that happened between me and Antonio, that I wouldn't know how to act around him anymore.

It was a terrifying thing to think about, really.

Now that I was actually walking around me and Antonio's House again, I could still feel my own anxiety, my nervousness.

Because – another fear of mine – what if I saw Antonio and my heart didn't jump up in joy? What if I had secretly been falling _out _of love with him, after months of not-seeing him? What if he had gotten fat and ugly?

…

Oh fuck, yes, what _if_ he had gotten fat and ugly? No, wait, plot twist – what if he actually _was _that goddamn Spanish aristocrat that owned this place? What if he _always_ had been that chubby bastard and I found out _now_ and he was **going to motherfucking kill me with a fork oh my **_**god**_**.**

…

That's right, the absence of the one you love could make you pretty damn paranoid.

Nice plot for a lame horror story though.

Then, all of a sudden, right in-between my panicky and really stupid thoughts, I heard the sound of somebody humming.

A gentle, friendly sound.

My mind and its weird, tiresome antics blocked right on the spot, just like my feet did. The feeling that suddenly struck me after hearing that sound, the feeling that suddenly attacked and overwhelmed me…

It was so familiar.

It was so delightfully and reassuringly familiar, it made me cry. Yes, _now_ I cried.

It came from upstairs, I heard, so I went upstairs. My whole body was pretty much moving out of its own, though, because I rather stayed downstairs and washed my weeping eyes or something – I couldn't even fucking _see_ anymore, dammit, I everything was fucking blurry and watery.

Still, I didn't bump against anything. I didn't fall of the stairs, I didn't trip, I didn't even tremble, shiver or shake – I just walked, and I walked in a straight line towards the room I had heard the humming from.

It was the spare bedroom, or so I faintly noticed. It really had to be the spare bedroom, because it was the only door which door was wide open. I approached the room more and more, until my feet once more refused to continue walking, exactly at the moment I saw Antonio making the bed.

It really was some sight to see.

Because it wasn't some sight to see at all.

I mean, he wasn't naked or anything. He didn't look particular sexy or irresistible. He was just… making the bed and sorting out some laundry, I suppose, since there were little piles of towels and clothes on the random chairs inside the room. Furthermore, he looked tired and pale, as if he had been neglecting himself. He also wore old clothes and even had a some sort of _beard_ – and I fucking hated beards.

To be completely honest, Antonio looked like a fucking wreck I wouldn't even pay attention to if he had just been some random man walking down the street. I wouldn't turn my head to him even once.

Still, I felt like my chest would explode from pure happiness any second now.

Finally, I regained control over my body again – so finally, I could let it tremble and shake and shiver to my almost-bursting heart's content. My hands clumsily gripped the side of the closet I was apparently standing next to, just to have something to hold on to, as I watched Antonio's movements and the tired, but also surprisingly happy expression on his face.

Oh.

He smiled.

I hadn't seen that at first glance.

But he really did smile.

I squeezed my lips together tightly and felt there were even more tears rolling down my cheeks now. I could finally see him smile again. I didn't only have to hear his laughing through the phone, all mangled up and fake because of the bad connection and distance and shit, no, I could actually _see it_. In real life. And it was a fucking genuine one, too.

Fuck, I was never going to stop bawling _now_.

Since Antonio, for some reason, still hadn't felt my presence, I slowly started to realize I should probably say something. Like 'hi'. Just a simple hi. Two simple letters. I could pull that off, right? Yes, of course I could.

If my goddamn _throat _had been more cooperative. But it wasn't, and right now, it felt like all the words I wanted to say so badly were stuffing my throat so much that I couldn't even utter a fucking hi.

Instead, I made a weird, high-pitched sound that cats make when they see someone they actually _like_.

'Mrrrr-oaw.'

…

BELIEVE ME, I WISH I WAS KIDDING, BUT NO. NOOOO.

I purred. I fucking _purred_. Oh my _god_.

Luckily enough, Antonio still was too lost in thoughts (now there are some words I'd never thought I'd use in one sentence) to hear my meowing, so I breathily let some puffs of air escape between my lips, relieved.

'Hmm?' Antonio immediately said and looked up.

I stared right back at him, too surprised and shocked and fucking emotional to say anything.

Antonio didn't say anything right away either. He just looked at me, frozen rock solid, like I had pressed a pause-button or something.

But then Antonio slowly stood straight up, letting everything he was busy with fall out of his hands, watching me with big, unbelieving, dull eyes.

'Lovino?'

It was horrible, but I _still_ couldn't spit out any words, so I just nodded and cried and let go of the closet.

Antonio moved away from the bed.

'You're here?'

I nodded again and pressed the palms of my hands into my eye sockets, in a desperate attempt to stop the fucking tears from coming.

Antonio looked at me crying a little bit longer, until he suddenly came towards me faster than I could register, standing still right in front of me. For a moment, I was afraid the shock of me, popping up out of nowhere, had made him lose his ability to smile all my worries away.

But then he smiled.

'You _are _here! You really are here!'

He smiled, and he smiled, and he laughed, and he laughed some more and he threw his arms around me and pressed my still quivering body against his own so lovingly, I thought I'd fucking dissolve from the joy of it all.

His warmth, his kindness, his arms, his scent and his smile – I had missed them all so much. And now, all of that was with me again. All of Antonio was right in front on me, holding me, squeezing me, loving me.

I wanted to hug him back, so I wrapped my unsteady arms around him as well and clasped his stinky shirt as much as my fingers would allow.

I don't know how long Antonio and I stood there like that, all sniveling and sobbing and laughing and trembling, must have been at least fifteen minutes, but it felt like it still wasn't long enough when he backed off just a little bit and collected my face in his large, warm hands.

'Hi, Lovi.'

'H-h-h-hi,' I eventually managed to blabber, now gripping his wrists, '…h-hi, Antonio.'

He laughed a bit. I saw his cheeks got their original hue back again, just like his eyes were all beautifully green and lively again. And _fuck_ if it didn't make me happier than I had been in a very, very long time.

And it didn't only made me happy. It also made me something else.

'Hey, Antonio?' I started, my fingers losing their tight grip around his wrists in order to make them go up and down his arms questioningly.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled curiously. 'What, Lovi?'

'I don't want to ruin the sentimental mood, but I want you.' I breathed out. 'I want you, really, really badly, right now. Every fucking inch of you. Every damn bit of you. Everything that's you. I want all of it.'

I had expected his gaze to turn a little bit darker, a little bit hornier, but the tender and loving look in his eyes remained exactly the same.

'Well, I want you, too, so that's good.'

I frowned. Firstly, I thought he didn't understand what I was saying. That he thought I meant I wanted him in a cutesy, innocent way. That he thought I meant I just wanted to continue hugging him for the following hours.

So of course I parted my lips to once again tell him – slower and clearer this time – that I wanted him and how much of him I wanted.

But before I could even think of a word to say, his mouth covered mine, and before I could think of how to respond on that, his tongue roughly, yet, in a way, surprisingly gently as well, invaded my mouth.

I gasped, as I hadn't seen this one coming, and as I tried to come to my senses – all while feeling incredibly excited because of his sudden kiss – Antonio only deepened the kiss. He grabbed one of my hands and pressed it against his chest, while he placed his other hand on my lower back, rubbing me there, pressing me against his body greedily.

God, and it was fucking amazing.

It was so fucking amazing, I wanted to stare at his face as he kissed me, I wanted to rip his fucking ugly piece of clothing off his criminally good torso and touch it like a fucking maniac, I wanted to wrap my entire being around him as much as humanly possible.

But I did completely other stuff.


	3. Quote 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: I hereby apologize to you for the insane amount of Caps Lock in the next few sentences. _*bows deeply* _It seemed to be a funny idea, but the words – they __**scream**__!_ ^^;;;

_A/n2: By the way, shortly after finishing Bottoms Up, my ENTIRE FAMILY found out I wrote such a big-ass fic. Not just my mom – she already knew, remember? – but EVERYBODY.  
__YES. YES, I INDEED DIED OF EMBARRASSMENT.  
__But then my dad resurrected me and told me with tears in his tiny eyes just how enthusiastically he was going to inform EVERYBODY HE KNEW ABOUT HIS WONDERFULLY TALENTED DAUGHTER  
__THE POOR MAN DIDN'T KNOW I WROTE SOMETHING WITH LOTS OF GAY PORN IN IT  
__AND THEN MY COUSIN TOLD ME SHE WANTED TO READ MY FIC  
__AND I SAID 'NO YOU DON'T WANT THAT' AND SHE SAID 'YES I WANT THAT NOW LET ME READ IT, WONDERFULLY TALENTED COUSIN' AND I SAID 'KILL ME' AND THEN I DIED AGAIN the end._

_A/n3: Well okay, the good part is that my family is still blissfully unaware of what __**kind**__ of fic I actually wrote. I refused to tell my parents and brothers when they found out, and till this day, they still don't know. I guess I'm lucky my brothers __**really **__don't give a flying fuck about whatever I'm doing with my spare time and my parents, suspiciously enough, don't even try to look it up.  
_'_That's because you wrote it in English, dear,' my mom said. 'You don't think we'll read 80 English chapters, do you? I have a life!~'  
_'_Also, I don't like reading,' my dad added, which is true, my dad hates reading, plus, he's as dyslectic as an analphabetic blind man. Yet he's a teacher, which still amazes me. Just how did he do that. How. But whatever.  
__So yeah, they don't know about the gay porn.  
__YETTTTTT.  
_*shivers* _Oh god. You bet I consider immigrating to Belgium if they find out._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 3:

**There is very little you can beat into a child, but no limit to what you can hug out of it.**  
_Astrid Lindgren  
__(Swedish author and screenwriter)_

Yep, instead of doing all kinds of very corny, sappy shit, I grabbed both of his cheeks (his _facial_ cheeks) and pinched them!

Not just a little pinch, but more like an _**über-PINCH of DEATH!**_

...

Well… well, not really.

Because… n-no matter how disturbingly turned on I had got, I cried even _more_ upon realizing how terribly neglected that hot man in front of me was looking. It was saddening. And strangely infuriating.

So I pinched the bastard!

Not too hard though.

But still! I pinched him!

And I cried.

Like a fucking child.

Antonio stopped kissing me for a moment to utter a weak 'ouch' and gave me a just as weak smile.

'Why're yoo panching meh, Lobino?'

'Because… because!' I pressed my lips together tightly and finally – after one last twist – let go of his skin. 'B-because you look like _crap_, dammit! Can't you take care of yourself a little bit better when I'm away?'

'I'm sorry.' Antonio rubbed one side of his face. 'I just… I wasn't really myself when you were gone. Things aren't going very well in Spain, and you weren't here to make me feel better, and—'

'And then you made the brilliant decision to grow a fucking beard.'

Antonio blinked as stupidly as only he could blink. 'I have a beard?'

I frowned, grabbed his hand and _griiiinded _it over his stubbly jaws.

'Ohh, sandpaper,' he said, chuckling apologetically when he saw my watery eyes.

'Yeah, s-sandpaper,' I blubbered, my voice all choked up. Antonio noticed and was quick to pull me against him once again, making sure both of his arms were safely wrapped around me.

He pressed his forehead against my own and tried to connect his gaze to mine. 'Ah, don't cry, my love… don't cry, I'll get rid of it tomorrow, okay?'

'T-that's not why I'm f-fucking bawling, d-dammit…' I stuttered.

'I know.' Antonio pressed a kiss on my forehead – and then he immediately went back to kissing me on the mouth again, deeply and thoroughly.

Oh.

Yes. Yes, that was more like it.

Instantly, I stood on the tip of my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck like he was some kind of, I don't know, lifesaving buoy. I just clung to him with everything I had, pressing his forehead against mine, kissing him and crying and kissing even more and hugging and clinging and my toes were _really _starting to hurt now_ ow ow ow. _

Antonio had stumbled backwards a bit because of my sudden-death-hug attack, but he never let go of me, holding and kissing me just as desperately, at a certain point even lifting me off the floor and grabbing one of my legs to put it around his hips.

I heard our heavy breathing, mixed with other sounds that sounded more an experimental brew of moaning, sobbing and laughing, and right then I finally realized this wasn't fucking sexy or sensual _at all_, dammit, no matter how enthusiastically we were exchanging our saliva.

'Damn you,' I panted, suddenly pushing his wet face away from my own, 'o-our reunion was supposed to be fucking _lustful_, d-dammit, not some big damn dramatic scene! N-now look at yourself, you're a walking… walking teardrop!'

'I missed you so much…' Antonio's lips were pursed and pouted and shaking. 'I-I missed you so much, I thought I would break.'

I swallowed, gripping his shoulders and his hips some more with my arms and legs.

'S-stop that, dammit, you're giving me the weirdest boner ever.'

'Y-you're turned on by my crying?' Antonio asked, immediately looking down. 'Should I be worried about that?'

'Don't fucking _look_!' I quickly grabbed his chin and lifted it up again. 'N-no, it's not your stupid crying that turns me on – it's just you, you bastard. You and your words. J-just _you_.'

I swallowed again and let go of his face, avoiding his eyes. Fucking embarrassing.

Antonio chuckled softly and pressed equally soft kisses on my cheeks and down my neck.

'A-asshole,' I croaked in-between suppressed groans, 'I thought you'd want to fuck me to oblivion, not… not… kiss and hug me to oblivion, dammit…'

'I haven't seen your face or body in months, Lovino…' Antonio muttered, shoving a hand under my shirt and caressing my back. 'Rather than toss you on the bed and molest you like some kind of wild animal, I'd firstly like to… umm… lovingly love you?'

'Lovingly love me?' I repeated.

'You know!' Antonio smiled and blushed awkwardly as I stared to wipe his tearstained face. 'I-I'd like to actually really look at you and feel you and stuff.'

I felt my cheeks heating up as well. 'W-well, that's… that's pretty romantic, actually...'

'And then, after that's been done, I'll seriously _**fuck you up**_. Or you can fuck me up, I don't care. Just keep in mind you and I may get hurt in the process.'

In his eyes, I could finally see a quick glimpse of a restrained beast, waiting patiently for its release. It made me quiet and it made me shiver and it made me want to violently press him against a wall or something, but all in a _very_ good way.

'You're an interesting man, you know that?' I eventually said. 'So you're planning to have world-destructing sex with me right after having tooth-rottenly sweet sex with me?'

'I'll let you catch your breath first,' Antonio promised.

I snorted. 'You mean _I'll_ let _you_ catch your breath first.'

'Oh no.'

Antonio shook his head, walked over to the bed and dropped me on the mattress, crawling over me right after.

'I'd like you to let me make love to you, first. If that's okay with you.'

I stared up at him and his smiling, but determined face hovering above me, and I smiled a bit, stretching my arms out to bring him closer to me (because fuck, I think we both knew I preferred being bottom anyway, but I'd rather kill myself than admitting that).

'Okay, m-make love to me first, then,' I mumbled. 'Be…' I hesitated, stroking his (painfully red) cheeks, '…be as… as sweet as you want, d-dammit…'

'I will. Oh I _will_.' Antonio kissed me again and finally lay down on top of me.

I closed my eyes and tried to hide my slowly widening smile as he started pulling of my shirt.

'Okay?' Antonio mumbled.

'Okay,' I nodded, loosening my pants as he, as far as I could hear, got rid of his.

'I love you, Lovino.'

'It's really weird when you say that while taking a tube of lube out of my pocket.'

'Well, it's true anyway.'

'I know it's true – but still. You should have seen your face – like you were telling that lube how much you loved it.'

He smiled extra broadly. 'I love lube, Lovino.'

'Dammit.' I started to chuckle. 'Fucker, don't make me laugh… I-I waited way too long for this to happen, so…'

'I won't let you wait any longer, sweetie. Not a minute. Not even a second.'

Proving he was a man that always kept his promise, Antonio wasted no time with silly, unimportant things, like removing all of our clothes or the like before he started preparing me – no, he just pushed my legs apart and inserted a slick finger inside of me right away.

'Ah,' I said, my voice barely a whisper, and bit my lower lip in anticipation as Antonio pushed and wiggled and rubbed my entrance with that one finger. It wasn't before too long I felt him pushing in a second finger and dammit, he sure should have warned me before also shoving that third finger inside.

But _god,_ it felt _good_.

I gripped the mattress underneath me firmly and moaned, my eyes closed again, my lower body slowly rocking in that same slow rhythm as Antonio's scissoring, wonderful fingers.

'A-ah… oh… y-you're… hmmn… ahh, A-Antonio…'

I lifted one of my hands and panted loudly as I blindly slid it down my quivering body, searching for my very eager erection – but Antonio beat me to it and already took a fantastically good hold on my dick before my own hand was even close.

'O-oh _shit_,' I heard myself groan when he started jerking me off, his hand moving up and down and up and down and _oh_.

'You're so hot,' Antonio said in a low, almost emotional voice, pushing his fingers in even _deeper_, 'y-you're so amazingly hot and great, I-I can't believe I managed to go on without you, for such a long time…'

He covered the tip of my erection with his thumb and moved it around in teasing little circles.

'Fuck fuck fuck _fuck so good_,' I whined, panted, gasped, _everything_, and helplessly flailed my arms at him.

_Hold me hold me hold me hold me more more more love me love me love me more more more_

It sure was a good thing Antonio had learned that weird language based on jolting and spastic gestures and movements I only seemed to "speak" whenever we were having sex, because he understood what I was desperately trying to tell him in between my moans and cries of pleasure. He all of a sudden pulled his fingers back – and before I was even able to register the strange emptiness, it was filled up again with something that was bigger than his fingers.

'_Gah_— Ahh, I… oh g-god, Antonio, _yes, _y-yes…'

Antonio's breath hitched as well and he had to pause and take in a deep, shaky breath before he decently positioned himself in me, over me, on top of me, and pressed multiple kisses on my hot face as he started moving.

Slowly, carefully. Pushing my leg back with a sweaty, but warm hand and sighing contently as he heard my gasped and half-muffled mumbling and moaning.

'You… you should open your eyes, sweetie…' he murmured.

I complied – well I happened to be in quite a good mood – and looked up at his flushed, yet overjoyed face, his eyes lighting up in a way I hadn't seen in months as soon as our eyes met.

'Hi Lovi…'

'You're— _ah_! Ahh…' I almost bit my tongue when he hit a particular good spot inside of me, but took his face in my trembling hands anyway.

Antonio, who had been slowly but surely speeding up, swiftly slamming his cock into me over and over again, was a bit distracted when he felt my touch and looked at me questioningly, tiny sweat drops falling off his chin.

'Y-you're fucking amazing,' I croaked out, a bit awkwardly patting his sandpaper face, 'and I love you.'

Antonio's eyes grew twice their size and got a lot more glassy and teary, too, but not a single tear escaped from his eyes as he abruptly intertwined one of his hands with my hand.

He didn't say a word, he just brought our connected hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand – softly, so softly.

I watched him doing that and for some reason, that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I felt him picking up the same quick rhythm as he started to make love to me again, and I heard myself stammering and whimpering and crying out I wanted more of him, but that image, of him, holding my hand and kissing it like that…

It continued to float around in my head, even when I all of a sudden reached my climax.

Hell, it even stuck around when I got my _second_ orgasm, a while later.

And my third.

And my fourth.

And… y-yeah.

**\0o0/**

'Hey, Lovi?'

'Hmm?'

'How do you feel about kids?'

It really was just like Antonio to fire such a serious question at me, right after having sex.

Although he _did_ wait until we both couldn't possibly go for yet another round, I guess.

Instead of answering him, I looked at him. A still-quickly breathing Antonio was lying on top of me. And that's not all, no, our sticky, bruised lower bodies were also still touching, which was really gross and stuff, but since it was _him_ and since that really was the best sex-marathon I had in fucking months, I allowed him to be sticky and dirty with me as much as he wanted to be.

Besides, I was _tired_. Getting fucked by a hot Spaniard and fucking that same hot Spaniard so many times on just one mere day – that really asks a lot of your body. Mine clearly hated me right now. I swear, both my penis (completely _**milked**_) and my ass (seriously _**outlived**_) were complotting something to make me die an horrible death one of these days. I was sure of it.

Antonio folded his arms on my chest, his head leaning on top of them, his eyes shining expectantly.

'I mean, you said you'd think about us, getting children and stuff. You know, that one time, after we got married…'

'Yeah, I know.' I frowned. 'And I _did_ think about it.'

'You did?' Antonio's voice got high and hopeful.

'I did,' I said, ruffling his hair.

'And? You… are you willing to have some kids with me?'

'Sure.' I shrugged, for as far I was able to shrug while lying on my back. 'But I need to remind you about the fact that I hate kids.'

Antonio pouted. 'Aww, that's not true, you like them!'

'No. I _hate_ them.'

'But you always play so nicely with the kid next door!'

'That's not playing. That's _hunting_.'

'Don't deny it, Lovi, I've seen the two of you playing tag in our front yard!~' Antonio chuckled, endeared by the thought alone.

I shot a glare at him. 'Antonio, I'm _telling_ you that _wasn't_ a fucking _game_, I was following that little bitch around because she always snatches our newspaper and I wasn't going to let her get away with it this time!'

'Ah.' Antonio sighed.

'Damn kid still got away with it, too!' I growled. 'Fast little creep. Next time, I'll kidnap her bastard parents to some vacation island and watch her cry as they slowly forget about her! That'll teach that fucking brat!'

'Aren't you the cutest.'

'Shut up.'

Antonio rolled off me and sighed again, staring at the ceiling.

'So you don't want kids, after all.'

Silence. Not the good kind of silence.

'N-no, that's not true…' I hesitated, turning myself to him, 'I _do_ want kids. But only if they are _ours_.'

Antonio gave me a confused look. 'What do you mean?'

Shit, asshole wanted me to say it out loud. Well _fine_.

'I-I only want kids,' I muttered, fidgeting and looking away, 'if… if they will be _our_ kids. Genetically and all.'

'Ah?' Antonio said.

'But that's impossible, right? I mean, first of all, we're both male, and second of all, we're personifications of countries. We can't… breed.'

'Breed, Lovi?'

'Yes, breed.'

'That sounds disgusting.'

'Shut u—'

'I _like_ disgusting.'

He gave me a certain look and I could feel my ass spontaneously clench, which was pretty painful right now.

'No.' I firmly said. 'I like my ass too much. I want to protect it from getting _fucked_ _apart_ by you. Back off.'

He snickered. 'Oh, but you know, in that case, you can always use mine instea—'

'And I like _your _ass too much as well. Hell, I like _yours_ even _better_. Spare our goddamn butts, Antonio! Show some compassion, damn it.'

'Ahaha! Just kidding, Lovi!~ My butt will explode if we did it one more time!~'

I smirked. 'So? You'd let it happen if I'd mount you right now.'

'I would,' Antonio nodded.

'You like living on the edge, don't you?'

'As if you would push me away if I'd whisper in your ear you I'd like to passionately enter you once more…'

'F-fuck you.'

'I knew it.'

'G-go to hell, dammit!'

Antonio laughed and scooted closer to me, pecking a swift kiss on my nose. Then he pulled me in his arms, which were kind of cold and wet, because his sweat had cooled off. So I cursed and hastily grabbed some more blankets to cover us, before shamelessly cuddling him like the fucking cuddle cat I was.

Then it got quiet again.

And it stayed quiet for quite a long time, too.

I thought Antonio had fallen asleep – which wouldn't be that surprising, it was already past midnight after all – but then I could hear him inhaling sharply, as if he had been thinking about something and finally had collected the courage to come out and say what he had in mind out loud.

'So we won't get ourselves some kids, then.'

'No.' I bit my lower lip and nuzzled his arm, not knowing what else I could do. 'I guess we won't.'

'That's too bad.' Antonio sounded sorrowful. 'We'd be good fathers.'

'Better than most countries, yes,' I forced myself to agree, since I didn't want him to be sad.

'At least better than America and England.'

'Why's that?'

'Didn't you hear? They broke up last month, or so I heard.'

I huffed. 'So what, they break up every fucking week.'

'No no, this time, it was for real.' Antonio thought about it some more. 'Apparently, England couldn't stand being unable to give America some kids anymore. And America hated seeing England suffering like that, so… they ended it. Their relationship, I mean. It's so bittersweet, it's sad, really.'

'Then don't fucking _giggle_ while saying it, dammit.'

'Sorry.' Antonio grinned. I couldn't see it, but I knew he did, that bastard.

'I wonder how they're going to face each other during the meeting tomorrow, then,' I pondered.

'As for me, I couldn't care less.' Antonio yawned and snuggled against me affectionately. 'The only thing that matters right now, Lovi, is that we are together again.'

'Well… well, it certainly is important, yes,' I admitted with a small smile, hugging the warm body hugging me.

'Shall we sleep now, sweetie?' He kissed my bare shoulders.

'O-okay.'

I shrugged, but not too much, since I didn't want to sucker-punch his chin or something. I mean, he could bite his tongue, blood everywhere, and that's just not nice.

'Good night then, Lovi.'

'Yeah, good… good night.'

Soon, Antonio was fast asleep, still holding me, the side of his face pressed to my chest. I swear, if only I had been slightly more aroused, I'd have encouraged him to tweak and/or lick my nipples again and _oh_, it would have been _good_, because sex.

But I was tired. Too tired. And my bum still ached – not too much, but there was a slight burning.

So like Antonio, I decided to obey my butt and sleep.

Maybe we could have a quicky before the meeting started tomorrow morning. Nice and slow and without having a care in the world. It was just the two of us, anyway…

…

…or so I _thought_.


	4. Quote 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Over 60 reviews already... O-oh, my... Thank you all so much!_

_A/n2: Yep, that's right: the kids will appear this chapter! Yoohoo! Enjoy Lovino's overjoyed, superhappy reaction when he finds out!~_

_A/n3: I received some worried reviews and messages of people about the break-up of USUK. Well, I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you._^^ _And that's the only spoiler you'll get. For now. Since I ramble and will probably blabber and spill some beans even more some other time. Yay! _*grins weirdly*

_A/n4: This quote's from Anne Frank – yep, that one. She was born as a German girl, but lived most of her life in the Netherlands – that's why many people assume she's Dutch. She wasn't German or Dutch, though, since she lost her citizenship during WW II. That's why I didn't put a specific nationality, but the religion she followed under this quote of hers. _

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 4:

**Who would ever think so much would go on in the soul of a young girl?**  
_Anne Frank  
__(Jewish author)_

That night, I slept terribly.

I had thought I would sleep like a motherfucking _rock_, because Antonio was holding me and I was feeling shamelessly happy and all that, but to my disappointment, I didn't sleep like a rock, but like I was lying _on _a rock.

Do you know what it feels like to lie on a rock? Like you're lying on a goddamn rock. Fucking awful.

Then I woke up, then I fell asleep again, then I woke up again, then I thought I saw things and people and stuff, and then I dozed off, dreaming yet another weird dream. In the end, I was honestly _relieved _when I felt the rays of the rising morning sun falling on my face.

Still, I didn't want to leave the bed just yet. Partly because I finally found a more comfortable position to lie in, on my metaphorical rock, but mostly because my dear, perverted brain instantly reminded me of my promise to have another go with Antonio again, before going to that stupid, useless European meeting.

Where we'd see all those other idiots again.

_Ugh_. No wonder I wanted to have some quick sex first now. I saw it as some sort of mental preparation for all the boringness that was coming. And we were supposed to pay close attention to everything that would be said, too, so it was going to be _hell_ and I suspected I'd fall asleep on the table in less than one fucking hour.

So…

S-so… well…

Better pull Antonio closer to me and… a-and make some more love, before leaving.

Without opening my eyes, I started patting the mattress, searching for that criminally hot Spaniard, only to discover he apparently had let go of me during the night – I couldn't feel arms wrapped around me anymore.

Huh. That sucked. But then again, I had tried falling asleep while embracing Antonio a couple of times as well. It wasn't a big deal, until your arm gets numb. And I'm so paranoid, I always think my whole fucking arm _will_ fall off at one point, _**dead**_. So I had let go of him – and this current situation proved Antonio also lets go of me most of the time because of dying arms.

Which is understandable. Not likable, but understandable. I mean, love and affection and falling asleep in each other's arms is all very nice, but a dead arm certainly isn't. Gives you such a zombie-esk feeling.

Anyway, I was patting the mattress like I was patting a goddamn dog, carefully but without holding back, because the sooner I held him into my arms again, the sooner I could tell him once again how much I loved him and his lower vital organs.

The bed seemed to be completely empty, though.

Hmm. He probably went to the toilet. He tends to do that a lot after waking up.

Which is… perfectly normal, actually. I guess everybody goes to the toilet first after waking up. Hell, I do it, too.

…

And now, I was having an internal conversation with myself about visiting toilets. Shit, just how woozy _was _I?

I groaned, grabbed a pillow and crashed it against me. I didn't know how long Antonio was going to use the toilet, but the longer it took, the more fanatically I'd postpone the sex. For reasons.

…

Fuck, why am I talking to myself about this gross subject! Ewww! Eww eww eww. I gross myself out.

I hugged the pillow more tightly, expressing just how much I hated my – literally – dirty mind… and then I heard a small yelp.

…

What was that?

I opened my eyes and listened carefully.

Nothing. Of course I heard nothing – that's just the story of my life: hearing _jack_ when I'm supposed to hear something.

But I could've sworn I heard somebody yelping! A very light, high-pitched voice.

I frowned and squeezed my pillow again.

'Gyah!'

…

"Gyah"?

Did my pillow just say… "gyah"?

Finally, I made the brilliant decision to look a little bit lower, to the pillow I was holding in my arms, and _oh my God and Jesus and Mary and Zeus __**that was no fucking pillow!**_

Pillows don't have hair! Or eyes! Or arms and legs! Or are shaped like a small human! Or stare at you like they're trying to kill you with their stare of hate and death!

I was holding a _**little girl against me, goddammit!**_

**\0o0/**

'RAAAAAH!' I violently yelled, practically _tossing _the fake pillow away from me.

Said fake pillow bounced up and down the mattress a couple of times, almost smacking against the wall, flailing her arms and legs around helplessly until she managed to grab the head of the bed and stop the hopping.

'WHAT!' I shrieked, just a little bit hysterical. 'WHAT IS THAT!'

The little kid let go of the head of the bed and tumbled over, rolling towards the dip of the bed, where, oh, I don't know, _**I **_was sitting_, _in my _**naked glory**_.

She bumped against my just as horribly _**naked**_ leg and looked up to me with angry, huffy, teary eyes.

'You!' I said, my voice high and awkward as I needlessly pointed to the kid, 'are a _child!_'

It wasn't like I told the kid anything new – I just told _myself _that very fact, so I would actually try and _believe_ what was in front of me.

The girl didn't say anything, she just stared at me with those big, green, angry eyes, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, her lips quivering and pouting.

I would probably have reacted the same way if an unknown adult man sat next to me, completely _**naked**_, I suddenly realized – so I didn't know how fast to leave the bed and grab some clothes, never letting the little girl out of my sight.

As I quickly dressed myself, the girl managed to sit up – but that's it. She didn't do anything new after that, she just kept… crying. And glaring. At me. Like I did something to her.

I couldn't help but glare back at her. Man, did _she_ look like a pain in the ass. Whoever her parents were, they sure were "blessed" with a whiny little crapbag. Sheesh.

When I got myself dressed, I felt myself calming down a very little bit and – after taking a deep breath – turned back to the girl on the bed, looking down on her.

'Who the fuck _are_ you?' I asked her, my hands on my hips. 'Also, where did you come from?'

The girl's lips started to tremble even more now, dammit, and before I knew it, she opened her yap and _**bawled like there was a fucking air-raid going on!**_

_**Fuck**_!

The sound of crying children!

I **HATE** the sound of crying children!

I panicked, walking around like a headless chicken, not knowing what to do to stop the "bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ", and then heroically fled out of the bedroom, only to bump into somebody that was covered in white foam.

Luckily, that person was Antonio, who had apparently been shaving himself, and _then_ had stopped shaving himself, upon hearing my manly roars.

'Lowi!' he blubbered, his mouth filled with foam. 'Whabts brong!'

'There's a girl in the bedroom!' I shouted, grapping his shoulders. 'A girl! A little girl! Sitting on our bed, judging me!'

Maybe it was my imagination, but although Antonio's eyes did grow a bit in surprise, he didn't seem quite as shocked as I was.

'Oh?' he said, wiping his face with a towel. 'So there's a little girl here, too, huh?'

'Yes, a girl! And she's… wait…'

I paused spazzing for a moment, thought about what he had remarked for just a few seconds longer, and gripped his shoulders even tighter.

'Ouch, Lovi, watch my tender muscles!' Antonio stammered, but fuck that.

'What do you mean, 'a little girl here, too'? Are you saying there are…' I gulped, '…_more _kids running around here?'

'Umm,' he said, but he didn't need to say anything more, because all of a sudden, two little boys appeared next to him, or next to his legs, should I say, since they looked just as young and tiny as the fire-alarm in the bedroom.

Both of them were covered in shaving foam. One of them had it on his face, the other one was _wearing_ it – only his eyes were visible. They both were laughing and seemed to enjoy themselves a lot.

Well I didn't.

THE FUCKING HALLWAY. COVERED IN WHITE FOOTSTEPS. _RUINED_.

'WHAT THE FUCK!' I therefore yelled once again.

Antonio clacked his tongue. 'Language, Lovi! There are children here!'

'Like I give a tiny rat's ass there are stupid children here!' I ranted. 'Where do all those kids come from!'

'Good question,' Antonio said, scratching the back of his head. 'I don't know, either. I just went to the bathroom to shave myself, and all of a sudden, there were these boys, climbing out of the tub and falling on their faces. Then one of them started to cry, and I thought to myself, well, maybe he'll cheer up if I give him something to play with.'

'What, so you didn't _panic_? And you gave him fucking _shaving foam_ to play with?!'

Antonio made a face. 'You _loved _playing with shaving foam when you were a kid!'

I snorted. 'Oh yeah? Did I cover myself and the entire hallway in foam as well?'

'Yes.'

'Oh.'

'You also destroyed fifteen vases and some perfectly good curtains.'

'Th-that's not important now, sheesh!' I nagged. 'Focus your eyes and thoughts on those fucking twerps! Where do they come from? I mean, I haven't ever seen them before! Are they the neighbor's?'

'Peeping Rosita is an elderly woman that lives alone. And the couple that lives left of us only have a girl, remember?' Antonio said.

'And that girl,' I hopefully said, 'does she happen to be a four-year old with thick, long, brown hair?'

'No, she probably goes to elementary school already. And she's blonde – you should know this, you always yell at her about the newspaper, Lovi!~'

'Oh.' I said. 'Well, in that case, we're suddenly stuck with _three_ strange kids. Better call the police.'

Antonio, now cleaning the face of one of the boys, furrowed his brows and looked like he wanted to say something, but then his entire _being_ lit up.

'Awww! Is that the girl you talked about? Awwwwww, what a _cutie_!~'

'Huh?' I looked over my shoulder and indeed, there she was, the little crybaby from earlier – now standing just outside our bedroom, her hands squeezing her white, nightgown-like dress.

'She's adorable!' Antonio gushed, accidentally pulling on the boy's face in his enthusiasm. 'She looks just like _you_, Lovino!'

'No, she doesn't! Don't compare her to me, dammit!'

'But she does! She – oh, sorry, kiddo, sorry, did I do that to your face? – she's just like you! Only younger! And female!'

I grumbled as Antonio patted the boy's head and grabbed the other boy, that was, or so it seemed, trying to shave himself with one of the decorating **swords, hanging on the wall.**

'That's it,' I slowly said, shivering upon seeing those sharp things, 'I'm calling the police. Right now, before people will notice there are kids missing and start suspecting us like a couple of creepy gay pedo-people who kidnap stupid-looking kids.'

'Don't you think they look familiar, though?' Antonio stared at the kid dangling in his arms, his gaze somewhat frightened. 'I mean, these little guys here… they look like me.'

'What, because we're in Spain, and the boys happen to look like a pair of small Spanish kids, a Spanish kid _you_ were, a very long time ago?' I huffed. 'Ohhhh, what a coincidence. It's overwhelming, really.'

'He has your eyes,' Antonio pointed out. 'So does that other boy, now that I think about it.'

I blinked my eyes. 'So what? I have a very common eye color. Nothing special about it.'

Antonio didn't respond right away – he just swiftly walked over to the girl and crouched.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. 'Antonio, what are you _doing?'_

'L-Lovino!'

He suddenly stood upright again, now with the girl in his arms – that immediately started kicking and screaming – and held her close to my face. Of course, it caused the horrible girl to sock me right in the _face_, dammit!

'Ouch, son of a—!'

'Lovino, her eyes…' Antonio looked at me like had finally found out the meaning of life. 'They are _**green**_! Like mine! That kind of green! See?'

'No – get that little witch _away_ from me, dammit!' I pushed her away, my nose bleeding a little bit now. 'And what are you trying to say? Who cares those damn kids have eye colors that match with ours!'

'Maybe…' His voice grew softer and more mysterious – but he could be doing that last thing on purpose, '…maybe these kids are… partly mine…'

'Well, that depends. Did you actively cheat on me with a woman for the past few months, no, _years_?'

'No, no, of course not! Also, it wouldn't explain why they look like _us_ – not only like me, but like _you_ as well!'

'Big fucking deal.'

'Lovino, don't be so mean.'

'Antonio.' I gave him a look so dead serious, it even scared myself. 'Cut it out. These are _not _our kids. We can't have kids. We're men. End of story.'

'Maybe something happened, though…' Antonio muttered.

'Like what!'

'Maybe a stork felt sorry for us…'

'Oh _god_.'

'Yes, God could have felt sorry for us, too!'

'You're unbelievable.' I ran a hand through my hair and groaned loudly. 'Look, Antonio, just call the motherfucking police. Regardless of whose kids these are, we should warn the authorities. Maybe there are people out there missing their beloved bundles of terror. Would _you_ want them to be separated from them?'

Ha – deliberately messing around with Antonio's parental feelings to unleash guilt. Go me!

It worked, because his face began to drop. He let go of the girl – that immediately went to stand with her brothers. If they even _were_ her brothers.

'You're right,' Antonio eventually sighed.

I nodded. 'Of course I'm right. I'm always right. I'm the king of things that are right, dammit.'

'Would you keep an eye on the kids for now, then?' Antonio suddenly pushed the kids into my direction. 'I'll go make a call.'

And off he went, all sexy and manly in his slowly lowering towel—

Wait, now's not the time to fantasize about his glorious ass, not when the owner of that same glorious ass just left me with three demon children.

ALL ALONE.

**\0o0/**

That bastard. Didn't he know I could _die_? I could actually _die _here!

And no, I'm _not_ overreacting, I really, _really _wasn't good with kids, so yes, I could seriously die.

Awkwardly, I moved away from the three kids, all three staring at me with their annoying, huge eyes and slightly opened mouths. The boy that looked like the dumbest of the three even drooled a little. The other boy, that seemed to be developing a fetish for sharp things, grinned at me in such a maniacal way I considered turning that creep around, away from me. And the girl _still_ looked at me like I had murdered her entire family, making me feel like I should prepare to wake up in my own blood tomorrow.

Jesus, just what kind of parents had _produced_ these un-cute minions of Satan?

'So… do you things have names or anything?' I forced myself to ask.

Nothing happened, just that Dumb Kid noticed his drool dripping from his chin and now started to rub it into the carpet, because that's what you _do _when you see your own drool on the carpet, you fucking _rub it in_. Creepy Kid and Moody Kid simply observed him doing just that.

Just when I was seriously beginning to wonder what on earth I was going to do until Antonio returned from his call, my cell started ringing – effectively grabbing the attention of the demon children.

And my attention, too, because I was more than happy to get my phone out of my pocket and answer it, because anything was better than trying to figure out what to do with these stupid kids.

'W-who is it?' I stammered, signaling to the kids to keep their fucking distance, this was _my_ cell phone, back off, dammit.

'_Veee… is that you, big brother?'_

'Feliciano!' I said, glad to hear his voice. Still, I wasn't sure if I should tell him about the kids, so I decided to greet him as nonchalantly as I could.

'How… how are you? Are you and the wurst-munching bastard doing okay?'

'_Eh,' _he hesitated, _'yes, we're doing okay, I guess?'_

'What do you mean?' I asked, mouthing "NO" to Creepy Kid, who was attempting to stomp on a helpless little bug he had found.

'_Lovi, do you know anything about… kids?' _Feliciano then suddenly asked.

'Kids?' I stopped paying attention to the demon children and felt my eyes grow. 'Don't… don't tell me there have appeared some kids at your place, too.'

'_Just one, a cute little girl!~_' Feliciano said._ 'Veee… she's soooo adorable! She looks just like Luddy! Blonde and blue eyes… but! But she behaves a little bit like me, big brother! She's so sassy!~ She just declared war to all our potatoes! Luddy's devastated, haha! Oh, wait, I shouldn't laugh about that.'_

As Feliciano rambled on and on about the cuteness of the strange girl, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Feliciano and Germany had a weird kid that popped up out of nowhere as well? What the fuck?

'_Lovi, do you and Big Brother-In-Law Toni have more than one kid, then?' _Feliciano suddenly asked.

'Three,' I croaked out, 'we have three of them. A girl and two boys.'

'_Veee… that's strange, all the other countries I've spoken with got just one.'_

'Wait a minute – what? What do you mean, all the other countries?' I gripped my cell firmer. 'Are you saying that _all _countries suddenly have kids running around their places?'

'_Kind of?' _Feliciano laughed weakly. _'I don't really know what's happening either, Lovi… But according to Big Brother France – who by the way has a girl as well! – it's something England has done.'_

'England?'

'_Yep. He'll tell us the details during the meeting today.'_

I felt sick. 'I don't know if I want to hear the details.'

'_Veee... well, __I think you should come, big brother. And take your kids with you, 'kay?'_

'They're not _my _kids, dammit!' I hissed through gritted teeth.

'_Oh, right – your and Big Brother-In-Law Toni's kids, I mean. Well, since don't seem to know much about kids either, I guess I'll take a book or something… See you at the meeting, Lovi! Bye bye!~'_

Don't you fucking "bye-bye" me, I wanted to say, but Feliciano had hung up already.


	5. Quote 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: My, aren't you all curious little kittens! _^^ _Last week, I've received quite some questions about how England's involved in all of this, and why Lovi and Toni have three kids instead of one. Well, I can't tell you that yet. It's all part of the plot, that's all I can say! Sorry for the vagueness! _^^;;;

_A/n2: Antonio uses some old clothes to dress the kids up in this chapter (don't worry, they'll get them new clothes later on). He uses a dress of Lovi (for the girl) and some of his own old clothes (for the boys). The clothes Toni wore as a kid are all damaged and kind of filthy, covered with dirt and bloodstains – that's because I like to believe Antonio actually had a _horrible_ childhood, with many bloody fights and wars. I think he probably has got a lot of mental scars from what he saw and did as a child. He's gotten over it now, though. _^^  
_However, Lovino doesn't exactly know where the dark stains are from, so he comes up with a rather… interesting explanation._

_A/n3: A teacher of me once told me there's no worse ending to a story than the infamous words: '...and then he/she woke up'. It's like the easiest way out, he explained, and it's been used way too much. He told me that if I wanted to become a great writer, I should always, ALWAYS avoid an ending like that.  
Why I'm telling you this? Oh, just read - you'll see._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 5:

**If the war still continues to last for a long time, perhaps the babies will also be employed. Total war!**  
_Friedrich Kellner  
__(German justice inspector)_

Of all the times a storm was brewing inside my head, this one brewing inside my head right now probably was the nastiest one I had ever had.

Apparently, Feliciano and Germany also had some kid-problems. And so did France. And many more countries. And England had got something to do with it. And he was going to explain during the meeting what the fuck the meaning was of all those little dipshits.

I've had better mornings, really. I've also had better hangovers.

When I finally put away my phone, still dazed and confused, Antonio returned. He saw me, sitting down on the floor, surrounded by demon children that were all three doing annoying things, like pulling wings of flies (Creepy Kid), bumping into the wall (Dumb Kid) and glaring at me (Moody Kid). He decided to just ignore the weirdness of it all and crouched down in front of me.

'Okay Lovi, so I called my boss, and guess what? He wasn't even surprised anymore. According to him, _all_ of the European countries—'

'…have got kids all of a sudden. Yes, I know.' I swallowed. 'Feliciano called me when you were away. He told me. England seems to be behind this.'

'Ohh?' Antonio said, surprised. 'But that means that he has succeeded!'

'Succeeded in what – doing better than you during the Eurovision shit?'

'Well, he indeed didn't become last this year…' he made a sad face, '…but no, that's not what I meant. I meant _kids_. He wanted to create kids for him and America, one way or another. Right? I told you last night.'

'Hm-hm…' I muttered. I wondered when that damn girl stopped staring at me like that, dammit.

'Maybe…' Antonio began to whisper again, which was really unnecessary, '…maybe England's plans backfired, and now every country and its significant other have kids, _except _he and America!'

'You have thought this through, didn't you,' I dryly pointed out.

'But it makes sense, right?'

'It's stupid enough to make sense, yes,' I admitted, 'but maybe it's better to go to that damn meeting and hear from Mister Eyebrows himself what the hell is going on.'

'Okay,' Antonio said and stood up, pulling me up with him, 'then let's get me and the kids dressed up, shall we?'

…

I _really_ didn't like that "oh-wow-we're-actually-parents-now"-ring his voice had.

So before Antonio could scoop the demon children up in his arms, I _grabbed_ him and looked at him angrily.

'Listen, you! Just because England's done something unbelievable moronic, doesn't mean that… that those kids are _ours_! And if you think I'll recognize these… these _things _as our offspring, just like that, you're a brainless _idiot_!'

Antonio looked at me and for a moment, I saw disappointment and anger flashing through his eyes. He loved kids – and I know I pretty much pissed on his heart when I said such awful things about them.

But he had to wake up and smell the misery, dammit! He had to crawl out of his happy place and realize just how _bad _it would be if the kids _really_ turned out to be ours!

I mean, what were we supposed to _do _with them? Educate them? Raise them? _How_?

'We're fucking _countries_,' I heard myself say to Antonio in a soft voice, as he shrugged my hands off him. 'Countries shouldn't have kids. They should just be… countries.'

'I don't want to be just a country.'

Antonio gave me this angry look again, and then he took the hands of Dumb Kid and Moody Kid.

'And I thought _you_ also didn't want to be just country. That you wanted to be part of a _family_. Remember?'

He didn't wait for my reply, he and the two kids just walked away. All stealthy and shit.

Creepy Kid and I stayed behind for a few seconds, until I gave in to Antonio's silent demand and sighed, harshly taking Creepy Kid's hand and pulling him with me as I followed Antonio to our bedroom.

I sulked. Stupid Antonio. He didn't have to act all serious and grown-up about this, dammit…

**\0o0/**

Antonio's mood seemed to become increasingly better when the both of us were in the bedroom again, since he was all smiles and sunshine again when he sat the three kids on our bed. I leaned against a closet and watched him wearily.

'Right!' Antonio started, standing upright again. 'Now let's see what kind of clothes I have for you, okay?'

The kids just gaped at him, like I had expected them to do. Except for Moody Kid, who was now looking at a suspicious stain on the mattress.

'Antonio,' I slowly said, 'maybe you shouldn't put them on the bed.'

'Why not?' Antonio asked, frowning – but then it clicked, thankfully enough, and he became just as red as me.

'Is… is that...'

'Ohhh yes.'

'That's not good.'

'Nope.'

'Okay. You grab the sheets, I grab the kids.'

'Deal.'

Hastily, we swooped the kids off the mattress and pulled off the sheets and blankets and shit.

'W-well!' Antonio panted, looking _very_ embarrassed as he put the kids back on the – now bare and therefore clean – mattress again. 'Let's do that over, okay? I'll go take a look inside the closet to see if I have something nice for you three to wear!'

'Are you saying that you have kept my stupid dresses?' I asked, folding my arms and furrowing my brows.

'Yes,' Antonio said as he opened the closet and went in – with his head, 'you see, I never stopped hoping I'd someday have kids as well, so… um, I kind of kept them. That way I didn't have to buy new clothes. You know I don't have much money on me, so... yeah, ahahaha…'

'Well, that's… well.' I huffed and scratched my cheek. 'That's kind of… endearing.'

'Thank you.' Antonio's head came out of the closet again and he gave me a smile. I was glad to see such a nice smile after all that nagging earlier, so I uncomfortably smiled back at him and wondered if it would be alright to ask for a quick kiss or something, since I could really use a quick kiss right now.

'H-hey,' I stammered, reaching out a hand to him, '…c-could you give me a ki—'

'Alright then, here's something I have for the cute little girl!~'

Antonio apparently hadn't heard me, so I quickly pulled back my hand as he showed Moody Kid one of the dresses I used to wear when I was younger. It was a green one, without an apron, but with a little white bow on the back. I never enjoyed wearing dresses, but I had to admit – that one wasn't too bad to wear.

Then again, Moody Kid was a girl, so she probably liked dresses a whole lot better than I did.

'Lovi, could you get her dressed?' Antonio all of a sudden asked, giving me the dress and nodding to the girl on the bed. 'Then I'll look for clothes for the boys.'

'Okay,' I grumbled obediently.

'And don't worry, you'll get your kiss later, sweetie.'

'W-what?' I said, wanting to look up at him – but he had disappeared into the closet again.

'M-moron…' I muttered softly, happily. Then I walked over to the bed and frowned at the girl.

'You,' I began thunderously, 'take off that stupid white dress thing.'

Moody Kid made a face that said "_try me, punk_".

Oh, it was _on_.

'Take it off _now_ or I'll _tear_ it off!' I pretty much snarled at her.

Behind me, Antonio clacked his tongue. 'Now, now! You sound like a rapist, Lovi!'

'But she should take it off, dammit, she can't wear two stupid dresses!' I defended myself.

'You should probably help her.'

'What?'

'You heard me,' Antonio said as he put some neatly folded pants and sweaters on the ground, 'you should help her.'

I felt fear engulfing me and I looked at the girl, terrified.

'But I'll see her partly _naked_!'

'So?'

'Isn't… isn't that… _wrong_?'

'What? No, of course not, silly!' Antonio laughed. 'Whether you like it or not, you're something of a father figure to her right now, Lovi – so you should man up and help the poor girl. She's probably four years old – she can't dress up by herself!'

The hot, Spanish man had a point.

I took a deep breath. 'Okay then…'

I grabbed the hem of the dress Moody Kid was wearing and gave her a look so dead serious, I might as well could have been dismantling a bomb.

'Put your arms up,' I said.

The girl pouted mischievously and folded her arms. Little shit.

'_Nicer_, Lovi…' Antonio annoyingly sang from inside the closet.

I bit my lower lip and fought off the desire to snap at him, then turned to the girl again.

'_Please _put your arms up.'

Moody Kid first blinked, then smirked.

_Smirked._

'Why you little… _Antonio_!' I complained. 'She doesn't want to cooperate with me!'

'Think of something, sweetie – you're the creative one of the two of us,' Antonio's lame answer was.

'What does creativity has to do with this,' I growled, but started to think about it differently anyway.

Moody Kid still gave me the "suck it" look and didn't seem to want to work with me at all. But maybe, I could trick her.

And then, out of nothing, I started to cheer, waving my arms up and down.

'Hooray! Hooray!'

The girl – and the boys as well, by the way – stared at me like I had completely lost it, and my _god_, they were _right_, and _was that Antonio muffling his laughing in the background, _but no way I was going to give up _now_.

'Hooray! Hooray! Can you do that, too? Hooray!'

The girl frowned, but didn't move. The boys, however, became fascinated and slowly started to mimic me.

'Hoo'ay, hoo'ay!' Creepy Kid chanted.

'Hooooooay, hoooooooay!' Dumb Kid shrieked.

Their little arms were _wooshing_ through the air like fucking propellers now.

BUT.

Moody Kid still refused. Man, she was one tough cookie.

Then I suddenly came up with an idea. I stopped moving my arms and gave the girl a condensing look.

'Heh, it's alright. If you're too _stupid_ to move your arms like that, you don't have to.'

Moody Kid's eyes widened. She was obviously offended.

'No no, really,' I continued boorishly, 'it's not a big deal. Only kids just as amazing as _me_ can pull off a stunt like that.'

Moody Kid didn't want to take this bullshit and puffed her cheeks, slowly loosening her arms.

'What, you think you can do it?' I smirked. 'Forget it, kid.'

'Hah!' she then suddenly said – and started flapping her arms like a goddamn bird. The minute her arms were held up high, I _took _that nightgown, I _pulled it up _like no-one's business, and _flung it off_!

Lovino: 1, Moody Kid: 0!

And as she was recovering and busy being positively _stunned_ from the shock that was my speed and wonderfulness, I even managed to get her into the green dress, too! All in just two swift movements!

2-0 for Lovino the Badass Magnificent! _Woot_!

'In your _face_!' I grinned victoriously at Moody Kid.

Moody Kid was a bad loser, however, and within seconds, her face began to tremble and redden and before I knew it, she was doing her air-raid attack on me again.

'Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhha aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaahhhh!'

Oh GOD!

'Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I tricked you into the dress!' I quickly said, pressing my hands against my ears. 'Please stop crying, oh my god, please stop _bawling_!'

But Moody Kid wanted her revenge, that horrible twerp, and just continued sharing her loud cries of agony and hatred. Her little face had become so red and swollen, I thought she was going to fucking splat.

'_Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaahhhh!_'

And then something even more awful happened: the boys _were starting to snivel and sob as well!_

'Whaaaa…'

'B-bwaaahaaaaa….'

NO.

NOOO.

Okay, that was too much for my nerves – so even before Creepy Kid and Dumb Kid could join Moody Kid in her quest of ruining my sanity, I took off. I fled out of the bedroom, leaving Antonio to their mercy.

…

I guess I could forget about that kiss now.

**\0o0/**

For at least fifteen minutes, my ears were tortured by the devastating crying of the demon children.

FIFTEEN. MOTHERFUCKING. MINUTES.

But finally, after those long, fifteen minutes, I could hear from the guestroom – where I had bravely hid myself – that the crying was slowly but surely stopping. Sounded like Antonio had succeeded in either soothing them or killing them off.

Now that the coast was clear, I came out of my hiding spot and went back to the bedroom. Of course, I didn't dare to just waltz in like nothing had happened, because Antonio would probably be mad at me. So I fidgeted in front of the door for a little while, and _then _I went inside. Carefully.

The first thing I saw was that the three kids indeed seemed to have calmed down: although they still had red faces, they didn't cry anymore – not even when they noticed me sneaking in again – and just sat there on the bed, Dumb Kid sucking on his right hand's ring finger and pinky, Creepy Kid yawning, Moody Kid shooting glares like daggers at me.

I was really making myself popular here.

Meanwhile, Antonio sat on his knees, still looking for clothes in the closet. There were little heaps of clothes and socks and shoes everywhere, but one small pile of clothes seemed to be children's clothes and therefore meant for one of the kids.

'So…' I stammered, shuffling closer to Antonio, '…s-so you managed to shut them up, huh?'

'I did,' Antonio said – and _oh_, that tone was _cold._

'Good job,' I tried to compliment him.

'Wish I could say the same of your actions.' Antonio didn't even look at me.

Dammit, he really _was_ mad at me. I twisted my lips worriedly. If I kept this behavior of me up, not only the kids, but also Antonio would think I'm a terrible person. I couldn't care too much about the kids' opinion, but Antonio was my husband – he should be proud of me as a person, not ashamed…

So in a somewhat sad attempt to apologize, I decided I'd continue dressing the kids.

'Okay,' I mumbled to Creepy Kid, unfolding a small, unfamiliar pair of pants with dark spots and stains that looked a lot like dirt that Antonio hadn't been able to wash out, 'this seems to be something a little cree—I mean, kid, like you would probably like.'

Creepy Kid, who had the most intense, sharp and therefore most _scary _eyes of all three of them, gave me a confused look.

'You see…' I hesitated – hoping Antonio would silently listen in and notice how much I was trying to score points here, '…um, there are… bloodstains on this pants.'

Creepy Kid was intrigued, I saw it. Dammit, his eyes really _did _look at lot like mine. Well, safe for the insane twinkle.

'The boy who wore this pants before they left it in our crappy closet, went to war. A… a _dragon war_,' I continued. 'He went to war to a country far, far away from here and saw a lot of scary and dangerous beasts. Hell, he even got _hurt_. You see that big, ugly stain here?'

Creepy Kid nodded enthusiastically. Moody Kid and Dumb Kid were listening to me as well, as I could hear them hold in their breath in anticipation.

'That stain,' I carried on, 'was caused by a very big and painful wound that brave little boy got, when a huuuuge dragon tried to eat him. He dodged the thing, fell on his knee really hard, and it started bleeding, but do you think that little boy cried?'

The kids and Antonio had all moved closer to me now, staring at me expectantly. Wait, _Antonio_?

I gave him a weird look, but except for a quick "go on" gesture, I didn't get any response of him.

So I shrugged and went on with the story.

'Well, no, at first, he didn't cry – he was at war, and you can't cry at war, not even when you fall on your knee that badly. So he swallowed his tears and fought on, until the dragon war was over. He had won. And he was very proud, but then he also realized how scary it had been, and started crying. But it was alright for him to cry, since he had a very good reason…'

'What kind of reason was that?' Antonio breathlessly asked.

'Well.' I thought about it. Creepy Kid – and Antonio – seemed to love the weird, depressing story, but Dumb Kid and Moody Kid didn't look too happy.

'The dragons had eaten his parents like shish kebab!' I decided to say. 'And hell, you have all rights to cry your eyes out when you've seen your parents being gobbled up like shish kebab. So the boy killed the dragons as well and made bowling pins out of their bones and had a nice bowling game with all the other kid warriors.'

Creepy Kid understood my strange sense of humor and laughed, excitedly clapping his hands, but the two others still looked gloomy. Antonio gave me a smile that could have said "well you tried" but also "you can do better than that".

'And then…' I feverishly thought about a solution. My imagination was beginning to ache, and I never thought that was possible. But no way in hell I was going to let Antonio keep that pity-smile on his face.

Well, then I guess I had no other choice but to go for the lamest ending of a story possible.

'…and then the boy woke up.'

**\0o0/**

Hope sparked into the eyes of Dumb and Moody Kid.

'Yes,' I sighed, rolling my eyes, 'the boy woke up, and realized all had been just a dream. His parents were still alive, everything was sunny and peachy.'

Dumb and Moody Kid giggled in relief. Creepy Kid's face, however, was beginning to fall. He knew this was a shitty ending. Fuck, _now_ what?

'But!' I hastily said, 'Even though everything turned out to be a dream, and even though his parents were alive and kicking and making him a disgusting bowl of soggy cornflakes, the boy noticed he _still_ wore his war clothes – these ones right in front of you, kid – and they still had all these dark stains on them…'

The mouths of the demon children had shaped themselves into little o's.

I leaned back. 'And that's why these clothes would suit an… interesting little kid like you. Want to put them on?'

Creepy Kid grinned and nodded and didn't know how fast to get rid of the white nightgown.

As I put on his clothes – weird, old clothes that indeed had a war-like air about them – and also started dressing Dumb Kid, who got clothes that were old as well, but slightly more normal, I could feel Antonio looking at me.

I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing, but at least he looked at me, and I really liked that.


	6. Quote 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: This chapter is probably rather depressing near the ending. Well, bear with me!_

_A/n2: Already over 100 reviews! Whoa! You guys… you're amazing! _^^ _Thank you so much for all the love and support!~_

_A/n3: Okay, there will be quite some names popping up in this chapter. Not sure if you all know/recognize them, so I'll try to make some things a bit clearer:  
__Daan = the Netherlands  
__Femke = Belgium  
__Matthew/Mathieu/Mattie = Canada  
__Emile = PruCan's son  
__Elise = Liechtenstein  
__Bas = NethLiecht's son (THAT'S RIGHT~)_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 6:

**Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children. **  
_Markus Zusak  
__(Australian author)_

Now that the demon children had got dressed, they jumped around on the bed for a little while, babbling in their own weird little kid-language about the fantastic story I had told them earlier, while I watched Antonio putting on some clothes as well.

…

Indeed, all this time, he had only been wearing that shameless little towel.

…

He could be so attractively _skanky_.

Not that I cared, of course. I just hoped the boy-twerps hopping the bed behind me wouldn't automatically turn gay as soon as they saw what a hot piece of man Antonio was. Being gay wasn't a walk in the park, after all. Their life would become a lot more difficult.

'I'm impressed, Lovino!' Antonio suddenly said, waking me up from my thoughts.

'Huh?' I looked up and felt my heart jump up a bit as I saw Antonio's green eyes, looking at me with warmth and something that seemed to be newfound respect.

'That story,' he explained, pulling a shirt over his head, 'that was a really cool story! They all loved it! Oh, and I enjoyed it, too!'

'You did?' I smiled weakly. 'It had a lame ending, though.'

'Well, that's okay. You did it to please the girl and the other boy. That's good. I'm glad.'

And he really looked glad, too. Maybe this was a good chance for me to say I was sorry for my cowardly behavior earlier, when I had fled out of the room as soon as the kids started to howl like evil tiny wolfs.

'H-hey,' I therefore muttered, avoiding Antonio's eyes, 'I-I'm sorry. For not-helping you when the demon children started to cry and everything.'

'Demon children?' I heard he chuckled. 'That's a mean thing to say about those kids, Lovi.'

I jolted my head back up, frowning furiously. 'I-I told you I wasn't good with kids! I despise them and they despise me – I hope you realize that now!'

Antonio had just finished putting his pants on and shook his head, walking over to me. 'The only thing I realize now is the fact you are a funny storyteller that seems to know what kind of stories kids like to hear. You're even keeping their different personalities in mind - with the lame happy ending and all. That's a _talent_, Lovi!'

'Bullshit,' I solemnly said, but blushed anyway.

'You're better with kids than you think, sweetie.' Antonio now sat next to me and turned my face his way with just his index finger. 'I should reward you for that, don't you think so?'

You bet your ass I deserve a reward, I wanted to say – but then I felt the gaze of three children, and I turned pale when I noticed from the corner of my eye that _they were fucking watching us._

'N-no, no,' I said, trying to push Antonio away, 't-they are watching, dammit, they'll notice!'

Antonio tilted his head questioningly, but didn't move away from me. 'Who're watching? What will they notice?'

'Th-the_ demon children_, you moron!' I hissed. 'They'll notice our gayness!'

'And that's a bad thing?' Antonio asked, not judgingly, but seriously curious about my answer. He really didn't seem to think that anything was wrong with making out in front of three innocent young souls.

'We'll scar their _minds_!' I blabbered, still holding him at a safe distance.

Antonio had to laugh and simply pulled me closer. 'Ah, don't worry, Lovi – I only want to kiss you – not ruthlessly _claim _you in the name of my wonderful country!~'

I grimaced. 'Using that squiggly thing again, huh?'

'I'm drawing it in the air as well, see?~ Did you miss it?~'

'Stop it, you lunatic. You and your weird kissing plans drive me nuts.'

'Come on, Lovino.' Antonio smiled. 'A kiss won't kill or scar anyone.'

'Yeah, whatever.' I snorted. 'Just keep your tongue to yourself.'

'Okay.'

And so we kissed.

…

Yeah, I could make up a really hot and passionate kissing scene here, but it really was just a peck on the lips that lasted a few seconds longer than most pecks on the lips did and I don't want to sound like a hornbag that kisses Antonio to bits in front of children.

Deal with it.

**\0o0/**

Well, both Antonio and the demon children were dressed, so now, we could finally leave. Time for a very wacky meeting with very wacky countries, saying wacky things but doing nothing helpful at all.

Just another ordinary Tuesday.

'Okay,' I heard Antonio behind me say as I locked the door of the House. He was already standing next to the car with the runt gang and he looked troubled. 'I think we have a problem, Lovi.'

'No, we have _three_ problems,' I mumbled under my breath, walking over to the car as well. 'What is it, what problem?'

'We don't have children's seats!' Antonio stared at me like he had just discovered a dead body inside the trunk. 'We can't drive like this! It's dangerous!'

'Oh no! I guess they'll have to walk, then. Well, see you in Belgium, twerps.'

Antonio glared at me.

I looked back, unfazed. 'Just kidding, Antonio. God, stop acting like such an old hag.'

Antonio's jaw dropped. 'I'm not an old hag!'

'Well you _are _old.'

'I look and feel as young as 25!'

'Good for you, gramps.' I smirked at him teasingly and looked through one of the windows of the car.

Even though there were at least three seatbelts in the back of the car – _my_ (new) car, not Antonio's piece of crap – it indeed didn't look that safe at all. But we had to leave _now_. And we had to take the kids with us.

'Maybe one of us should sit in the back and keep an eye on them,' I suggested. And immediately after that: 'I'll drive.'

'What?' Antonio pouted. 'But I want to drive!'

'No way! You're more fond of those twerps than I am! So _I_ should drive!' I pointed out.

He frowned. 'I know, but you drive like a _madman_, Lovino.'

'Is that all?' I made a "pfff" sound. 'At least I'm _fast_. We'll be in Brussels in no-time.'

'You'll get them sick.' Antonio gave me a menacing look, knowing he had found one of my weak spots. 'They'll get sick all over your nice new car seats and it'll stink awfully and you'll never be able to drive in your awesome car again without opening all of your windows.'

'Dammit,' I said, immediately admitting defeat for the sake of my car, and gave him my keys. 'Fine, I'll sit in the back with them.'

'Yay!' Antonio manly exclaimed, swatted me on the butt – why, just why would he do that – and got in the car faster than Germany would get _out_ of a car after finding out _Feliciano_ would bring them to their destination, which was like one street further and therefore _very_ dangerous for his and everybody's well-being.

I turned to the demon children, all three of them already covered in dirt, because they were kids and kids were dirt magnets.

'Okay, you muddy bunch of dirt bags – get in,' I told them, holding the door.

It worked better than expected: Creepy Kid seemed to have taking a liking to me ever since I told him the pants story and obediently got in. Dumb Kid loved to mimic him and went in as well, but he made the ridiculous decision to get into the car _backwards_, which was really, really… well, dumb. As well to watch as it was to execute.

With the boys in the car, only Moody Kid was left to enter the vehicle – and oh, she _knew_ it. She stood her ground extra firmly and folded her arms, something that had become her trademark over the past few hours, determined to stay put.

'Okay missy, you can choose,' I told her, not feeling like having another pointless fight with her, 'or you get into the damn car, or I'll tell everybody I know you like _tickling_. How's that?'

The girl looked at me, _mortified,_ and hastily climbed into the car.

I snorted. 'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

Then I sat in the car as well and told Antonio we could go.

'You know she doesn't like tickling?' Antonio asked me as he started the car, amazed.

'_Nobody_ likes tickling,' I decidedly said. 'I suspect it being a satanic ritual.'

He laughed, called me cute and funny, and stepped on the gas like only Antonio could step on the gas – _barely_.

I groaned as I forced the kids into their seatbelts – they barely fitted but oh well – and hoped the long ride to Belgium wouldn't take as long as I feared it would.

**\0o0/**

Naturally, we all know that **_nothing_** I hope ever becomes reality, because _someone _up there probably takes notes on everything I mention I don't want, before grinning to His divine work-angels and saying 'LOL well let's do_jus__t that_, then!'

So a couple of long and life-threatening hours later – in which I've been drooled on, kicked, bitten, scratched, stared at, ignored and encouraged (that last one by Antonio, that stupid "oh look at me, driving and not-being tortured by demon children" fag), we finally _finally __**finally **_arrived at the meeting place in Brussels, were we were supposed to meet up with all the other countries.

And man, as Antonio dropped me and the kids off near the entrance of the congress building and went to park the car, it was like I was watching at a bunch of families visiting a theme park. Almost _every_ _single_ _nation_ I saw had a four/five-year-old kid walking or skipping next to them. The kids looked happy and peppy – the _nations_, however…

…they looked like fucking _zombies._

'Holy _shit_,' I mumbled, not-believing what I saw. 'What's going on?'

'That's what I'd like to know as well, _mon chéri_,' a familiar voice said.

I looked around and there was France, holding a small, blonde girl by her hand. She had a load of curls that would put Marie-Antoinette to shame and winked at Creepy and Moody Kid, who both backed off in fear. Dumb Kid wasn't that scared, though, and spontaneously started picking flowers, putting them in his own dark, curly hair.

…

I didn't get that kid at all.

'So,' I said to France – who looked like shit, by the way, 'I see you have a kid.'

'I see you have _three_ of them,' France countered. 'You and _Antoine_ have my condolences.'

'Thank you,' I bitterly said, meaning every word. 'But I'm surprised. Aren't you going to threaten me you'll steal one away from us, like you told Antonio when I was still a kid?'

France gasped in shock, melodramatic as always, and that was the moment I finally saw something of the old, perverted, fuckfaced France back.

'Mon _dieu_, Romano, how bad you know me! I'd rather jump off a building than steal a child that's got your evil genes in it!'

'What do you mean, my genes?' I asked him, irritated.

'You don't know? Ha! What an idiot!'

And there Prussia all of a sudden was, laughing at me like the albino-turd he was. He didn't have a kid with him, I noticed.

'Where's your bundle of joy?' I now also glared at him. 'Or are you such a sad excuse for a country that you didn't get one?'

'Of _course _me and Mattie got one too, Romano, you mean little fuck,' Prussia said, huffing and putting his hands on his hips. 'An _**awesome**_ little boy. He looks just like his _**awesome **_father!'

'That poor kid,' I said.

'What about his _normal _father? Where is my lovely _Mathieu_?' France said, raising an eyebrow – and shaking his head at Dumb Kid, who had started to hand out his flowers to every single living being.

'Parking the car – ah, there he is! With our little boy!'

Prussia pointed to a very transparent, blond man, holding the tiny hand of a meek-looking and smaller version of Prussia – only his eyes weren't red, but purple-ish. I never understood why or how Canada and Prussia had got those insane eye colors, but maybe it's better not to think too much about it.

'You know,' Prussia proudly said to me, ignoring Dumb Kid's offered flower, 'I'm thinking about calling him Gilbert II, or Gilbert Junior. _**Awesome**_, right?'

'I feel sorry for both him and Canada.' I snorted.

'Gilbert,' Canada's soft, but surprisingly firm voice suddenly said, 'I thought we had agreed to name him Emile.'

'Yeah, but…' Gilbert vaguely said, '…Gilbert Junior as a _nickname_, I mean! An _**awesome**_ nickname! How about that, honey!'

Canada smiled friendly at him. 'Let's discuss that matter over a nice game of ice hockey tonight, okay? The winner decides. I'll even give you some advantage.'

'Okay!' Prussia shouted, since he couldn't speak normally. 'You're going _down_, Mattie! Just watch!'

'You're so cute,' Canada said, endeared, and walked into the building, taking Mini Prussia with him. Prussia looked confused ('What did he mean with that?'), quickly said goodbye to me and France and sprinted after Canada and the kid.

'Looks like those morons have accepted that kid as their own,' I commented, watching them go inside the building.

'Well, it _is _their own.' The blond, bearded Frenchman gave me a mocking look. 'Just as much as this child is mine – and those three are yours. And _Antoine_'s. I must say _your_ grumpiness and _his_ naive and sadistic mood traits make some interesting kids.'

'Oh, cut the crap. Our kids, your kid? Are you even aware of what you're saying? Hell, you don't even have a partner!' I protested.

France started to look sad. 'No – I guess he must have used my and some random Frenchman/woman's genes when he did his magic trick. I don't know whether to like that or not. Having a child is nice, but then I'd rather have a partner to take care of her with me as well. It's lonely.'

For the time being, I decided not to pay attention to his sorrowful expression, even though I did felt sorry for him – fuckface or not.

'You're talking about England?' I instead asked France. 'You also think he's behind all this?'

'Who _else _could be,' France said, shrugging – and then he just walked away. Marie-Antoinette skipped after him, now wearing a flower in her hair.

I looked down at Dumb Kid, how looked right back at me, grinning victoriously. Next to him, Creepy Kid and Moody Kid were also wearing flowers in their hair.

'You're _weird_,' I told him, narrowing my eyes. 'But you'd make one shrewd businessman.'

He just smiled and offered me a bruised daisy. His smile was just like Antonio's.

…

Okay – just… just look away and don't waste your thoughts on that, Lovino.

**\0o0/**

'Lovi, Lovi!'

After a few minutes, out of the blue, I (finally) heard Antonio's uplifting voice – and I was quick to snap my face up and look at him. There he was again, in front of me, all shiny and sparkly and humpable.

'Well, you sure took your goddamn time parking the car,' I said, ignoring that familiar "yay, my sweet and handsome lover is with me again, now I can take on the world!~" -rush that instantly took over my awkward and insecure feelings and almost made me blush in delight.

Antonio gave me an apologetic smile. 'Sorry – it looks like we arrived a bit later than I expected. Most good parking spots were already taken.'

'Okay,' I said, immediately wondering why the flying fuck I had said such an useless "okay", 'then let's get inside, before also all the best seats are taken.'

'Sure thing!' Antonio nodded. 'So where are the kids?'

I made a grumpy face. 'Can't you see? They're…'

I looked around me. Not a trace of the demon children in sight, not even the smallest hint of flower petal.

…

Oh.

_Fuck_.

'But-but there were here with me just a second ago!' I stammered, noticing the twitching movement of the corner of Antonio's smile. 'I swear! I-I just looked away for a moment, to greet you and your stupid sassy ass, and then… now they're just _gone_ all of a sudden! Those little hiding dipshits!'

'Okay,' Antonio said, losing the "what the _fuck_, Lovino"-smile, thankfully, and sighing and scratching his head now instead. 'Where were they the last time you bothered to look at them?'

'Here! Right here! In front of me!' I pointed my finger to the spot in front of me like a motherfucking pointing-pro.

'Did you hold their hands?' Antonio asked, looking around me.

I stiffened. 'No.'

'Why not?' Antonio glared at me.

I looked away. 'I didn't want to.'

'Why not?'

'You know fucking well why not, dammit!'

'Lovino…'

Antonio groaned. I saw he wanted to say something else, too, but our unpleasant conversation was disturbed when all of a sudden, two blondes blocked our vision. One of them held up Creepy Kid and Dumb Kid by their collars, the other had her hands placed on the shoulders of Moody Kid.

…

Yes, I'm talking about Belgiu… I-I mean, Femke, and the Netherlands.

'Hi there! Were you two missing something?' Femke friendly asked.

'You're lucky. I almost stampeded right over these heaps of flesh,' her brother emotionlessly announced, looking at the flailing boys like they were filled with doom and despair, which was _so very right_.

'There you are!' Antonio exclaimed, snatching the boys from his former colony's evil claws – and beckoning Moody Kid to come to him as well, but in a much nicer way, since he _did _like Femke. 'Thank you so much!'

'You're welcome!~' Femke smiled.

'You owe me,' the Netherlands smiled as well – which was disturbing as _fuck_.

I wanted to comment on how much of an evil bastard the Dutchman was for saying something like that, when I noticed there was an unknown little boy _he_ was holding, and an unknown little girl _Femke_ was holding. The boy looked just like him – but he seemed to be terribly shy. The little girl had a lot more spunk, but she looked…

…she looked…

…oh my god, _why did she look like Russia?!_

'So, you and the Netherlands have got kids as well, huh?' I faintly heard Antonio say, who apparently had started to talk to them as I was busy gawking at the little Russian girl.

Femke smiled uncomfortably. 'Yes, Daan has a boy and I have a girl, but, as you can see, it's not like they represent a mix of me and my brother's genes.'

'And I should kick your face for thinking I would hook up with my sister,' the Netherlands said, giving Antonio a dark look.

'I never said I thought that!' Antonio defended himself, 'I was just kind of hoping that… well, that Lovino and I weren't the only ones to have _more_ kids instead of just one.'

The Netherlands refrained from talking for a minute, staring at Antonio.

'I really should kick your face,' he then finally said.

Antonio looked horrified. 'But why! _Why_!'

'I don't know, I just want to kick it. Kick it like a football.' The Dutchman looked up to the sky, musing. 'Maybe my shrink's right. I should find a hobby.'

'Maybe you should spend more money on _fun_ things,' Antonio suggested.

'No, I don't think my new King would want a war with Spain.'

'…what?'

Okay – I had enough of this weird conversation and butted in.

'Alright, Femke, Netherlands? About those kids… um, they don't seem to fully represent you – that boy is way too emotional to be completely _you_, Netherlands, and that girl… um…' I felt myself shiver just a little bit as the kid's green, but creepy eyes met mine, '…s-she looks like a crazy _experiment_.'

'I like to think Bas – that's what I called him – is the result of me and Elise's undying and fiery love for each other,' the Netherlands said. 'And Femke's kid is probably the result of the recent visits from that big nosed psychopath Russia.'

Femke just smiled a very complex smile that said "don't fucking ask", so I decided to not fucking ask.

'Anyway,' she said, sounding fresh and not-restrained at all, 'we're going inside, okay? We'll see you two later!'

'And try to keep an eye on your runts. I could do it for you, but I warn you. I'm an expensive babysitter,' the Netherlands snorted. 'Also, I still want those 10 euros, Romano.'

And they walked away.

I didn't know what surprised me more – the fact that the Netherlands _still _thought I should pay him back 10 euros, or the fact that his and Femke's kids looked…

…

…a _lot _like Liechtenstein and Russia.

But as far as I knew, the Belgian woman and her Dutch brother weren't in any relationships right now. Or _were_ they?

So… what… _why_…

…

…goddammit, could someone _**please**_ explain to me what the hell was going on already?


	7. Quote 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Did I say last week's chapter would be rather depressing? My bad – __**this**__ chapter is the one with the depressing stuff. Also, England's going to explain it all now! Yaaaay! Too bad __**you probably shouldn't believe everything he's saying**__. Have fun now!~ _*skips away cheerfully*

_A/n2: Yesterday, it was Comic Sans day in the Netherlands. No, I shit you not, I'm really talking about the fond. It's not an official celebration day – I'm looking at you, Ukulala – but some radio DJ's here like to mess around with it anyway. So a lot of sites were rewritten in – yes – Comic Sans, just for one day, and it was wonderful. I don't like Comic Sans at all, to be honest with you, but you got to admit it's damn funny to celebrate a stupid fond, just to yank people's chains. _XDDDD

_A/n3: At the ending of this chapter, France's daughter says: 'Papa, où t'es?'. It's French for 'where are you, daddy?'. I wish I could boast about my wonderful French, but I kind of cheated. You see, there's this cool, French song by Stromae – Papaoutai is it called – and the song's kind of a take-that to the Rwandan father of the (Belgian) singer. He only saw his father three times, and then the man disappeared out of the singer's life. If you have some time, look it up! I think it's an awesome, yet also kind of depressing song. I mean, the vid made me cry. Like a baby. Ehehehe..._^^;;;

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 7:

**Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors.**  
_Khaled Hosseini  
__(Afghan-American author and physician)_

Right.

Upon observing _lots_ of other countries entering the congress room after we had taken our seats, I could see, and hear, and _smell,_ that aside from me and Antonio, the following couples also shared a kid:

Germany and Feliciano – a girl;

Prussia and Canada – a boy;

The Netherlands and _Liechtenstein_, apparently – a boy;

Femke and _**motherfucking Russia**_ – a girl;

Denmark and Norway – a girl;

Finland and Sweden – a boy;

Poland and Lithuania – a girl;

Austria and Hungary – a boy;

And finally, Greece and Turkey – a boy as well.

Also, don't think the single countries were spared: France, Iceland, Latvia and Belarus had girls, while Switzerland, Estonia, Ukraine and Romania had boys.

I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot of couple of countries, probably, but please bear with me, this day was insane enough already, dammit, and my head was hurting.

As everybody tried to seat themselves and the kid that was with them, I suddenly felt the urge to break down and cry.

I mean... it's just... Come _on_, give me a break. I had left some awful,_ lonely _months behind me. All I had wanted after I had returned to my husband was a peaceful life with him. Just me and Antonio, loving each other and being happy and shit – and I'm positive most of the other couples here were thinking the exact same thing. They wanted _rest_ and _peace._

However, we all suddenly had _kids_, instead. Yes. Kids, hopping and twirling around us like the little terrors they were. _Nobody_ asked for these damn children – so why the _fuck _had they showed up all of a sudden? Wasn't Europe fucked-up enough already?

'Calm down, sweetie, don't panic.' Antonio, who had been watching me, gently wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close, smiling reassuringly at my upset face. 'We'll pull through. Everything's going to be okay, I can promise you that.'

No you _can't_, I wanted to nag at him, but I swallowed the words and just nodded, breathing out shakily. I just really wanted to believe him.

'Why did all of this had to happen _now_,' I nevertheless mumbled angrily. 'Dammit, we all look like _shit._ Europe's a fucking mess. And now _this_ crap. What the fuck's going on!'

Antonio ran a hand through my hair. 'I don't know. But I'm sure it has a good reason.'

Again, I wanted to protest, and again, I didn't. I was just too fed up with everything. I didn't even want to think anymore. I just wanted to go home, get into bed and eventually realize that everything that had happened today was just a very bizarre dream upon waking up the next morning.

But I knew it didn't work like that. Also, it would be a lame happy ending to a story, and I hated lame happy endings to stories.

…

S-still…

I'd love to have such a lame happy ending now, dammit…

**\0o0/**

'Okay, may I get everyone's attention, please?'

Femke had stood up from her seat and clapped her hands. Since most important European congress buildings (like the one we were at now) were located in Belgium, _and_ because a Belgian man happened to be the president of the European Union, Femke was the one that always opened these EU-meetings and tried to show us there actually was something like a _purpose_ for them – before either England, Germany or France took over control with their big mouths, of course.

Most of the time, Femke was effectively ignored by most countries – not because they didn't like her, but simply because they couldn't hear her well-meant stammering over their own loud arguing and babbling. And whenever it was too noisy, Femke had to use a mean little whistle that she hid in her chest – I wonder if she ever washed that thing – to catch our attention.

The whistle had the sound of a thousand dying angles, by the way. _Horrible_.

This time, however, Femke already succeeded in getting everyone to look at her after just one try – hell, she didn't even _had_ to try, they all started looking at her the second she raised from her chair.

And the _silence_.

…

It was _deafening_.

Sure, the kids made sounds, but the countries? As quiet as a room filled with depressed mice.

'Alright…' Femke started, actually looking a bit startled about the fact she grabbed our attention this easily, '…welcome, everybody. It's so good to see all of you again after all these months of absence. I hope you have been fine.'

'Define "fine",' I heard Norway's sarcastic response.

Femke decided not to pay attention to him and bravely carried on, her feline smile plastered on her face as always.

'Okay, I won't beat around the bush any longer – as you all can see, we're currently all having a – quite literal – minor problem. It's got nothing to do with our countries or economics this time, but with… well… with kids.'

Some kids had started to cry in the meantime. Finland, Sweden, Ukraine, Turkey and Greece did the best they could to silence their twerps, while the rest of the personifications just blankly stared at an invisible point in front of them.

Femke swallowed hard and tried to speak up some more.

'Now, we all know who's behind this… this weirdness. It's England, as you have heard already. But as you all can see, he hasn't arrived ye—'

**BAM.**

She had barely finished her sentence when the doors were all of a sudden bashed open – and England, America (_of course_ he had to be here as well) and a small, teenage boy barged in.

'Sorry! So sorry, good ladies and gentlemen. We're here! Please forgive us.'

Everybody instantly flipped their heads around – which actually was a hilarious thing to see _and _hear, cracking necks everywhere – to watch England and Co. rushing to their seats. Nobody said a word before they sat down, not even America.

'Alright then,' England said, wiping his sweaty forehead with a hanky as he nodded to Femke, 'carry on, my dear.'

Femke usually was a woman that could hide her emotions and feelings like a professional, but right now, she shot such nasty, cold and disrespecting looks in England's direction, I could seriously hear the other nations think "oh magic _shitballs_, here it comes".

The Belgian lady grinned humorlessly at the Englishman and then she sat down as well.

'Oh, I can carry on? How nice! Well, in that case, mister England – I'll give you the word right away. Explain what on _earth_ is going on.'

England hadn't expect that move of her and was obviously surprised. 'E-excuse me, Belgium?'

'You heard her! Explain yourself, England!' Switzerland exclaimed, raising from his seat.

'Yeah! What's deal with all these kids!' Denmark followed.

'I'm too young to have a child! It's destroying my very _soul_!' Latvia whined.

'What's a soul?' Russia asked.

Soon enough, the old fire inside the nations was ignited again – and everybody started arguing and shouting random things again, just like they always did, back in the old days, when there weren't children ruining it all for us.

'I've been, like, _so_ stressed out, it's not even funny anymore! And now Liet and me suddenly have a kid! And, like, the only living thing I can take care of is my pony! We're soooo totally doomed, peeps!'

'I will teach our thing to play music, dear Elizabeta. I have a magnificent piano waiting for it. It will _play_. And it will _love it_.'

'Sure thing, dear! And I know some _good_ bedtime-stories!~'

'Veee, I love kids, but I don't know how to deal with them. What do they even eat?'

'Don't worry, Feliciano. We'll blender the wurst.'

'Haha! Ewwww! That's disgusting! You're disgusting, Germany! Hahaha!'

'Really, _Angleterre_, you absolutely outdid yourself this time…'

Now that the countries were being loud again, the kids became louder as well. The laughing, shouting, wailing and nagging seemed to go on forever and _oh god stop it before I roll myself up into a little ball and roll out of the room and flush myself down the first toilet I'd bump into._

Finally, England couldn't stand the noise any longer and stood up from his seat, moving his hands up and down in order to ask for silence. He looked even more exhausted than the rest of us, I happened to noticed.

Slowly, the noise subdued.

'Alright, alright, I'll try to explain what is going on, okay? But please – shut your mouths for a second. I can't think straight if you all start blabbering about.' England rubbed the sides of his forehead, sighing deeply.

'We just want to know why, England. Why _us_!'

That voice came from Antonio. I glanced aside and watched him as he tried to make himself clear.

'Why would you _do _something like this? We all know you wanted to give America some loudmouthed English-American children, but why did you have to involve us in it as well?'

'Well, I AM the US. So it makes sense,' America said, opening a bag of muffins.

'Shut up, America – that not what that Spanish loser meant and you're fully aware of that, you stupid twit!' England snapped at him.

His tone towards the American surprised me. He sounded snarkier and more bitter than usual, so I quickly came to the conclusion he and America probably hadn't stopped fighting yet. Which meant they were still on a break. Even though they now had a kid, what meant that England's wish had come true.

…

How wonderful. Everything just made even _less_ sense now, dammit.

**\0o0/**

Then, all of a sudden, the just-old-enough-to-be-a-teenage kid that had been with England and America, spoke up. And it might have been embarrassing for England, but that little mutant was the one that finally came up with part of the long awaited explanation.

And yes, the runt was already was annoying the hell out of me before he had even said anything.

'Okay, chaps!' he started, grinning widely and hopping on the table. 'Let me introduce myself: I'm Johnny! I'm twelve years old and I like all kinds of things, as long as they're English or American! Impossible, right! Haha! I, um, I'm something my English daddy created, after months of research and experimenting with magic and stuff like that! And it's so awesome to meet all of you! Cheerio! Cheerio cheerio to y'all!'

...

We all just stared at him in _terror_.

'Veee… why… why is he _shouting_ everything?' Feliciano softly asked me from my left side.

'Because some people like to watch the world burn,' I darkly said.

'Ah,' he nodded.

'To a goddamn _crisp_.'

'Yes.'

'Destroying _everything on their murdering path._'

'Veee, I got it, big brother. You can stop now.'

'So anyway, um, when I was created to be a child of Daddy and Papa, something kind of went wrong, because just after that, Daddy broke up with Papa and Papa therefore wasn't paying a lot of attention to what he was doing (that's what he told me, yep yep) and then he accidentally did something that caused to make kids for _allllll _of you! Like _bam_!' Johnny What's-His-Face rambled, not standing still for even one second but jumping and walking around like an ADHD-patient, goddammit.

'And now,' the kid continued, 'all of you buffoons that are in a relationship, or _about_ to be in a relationship, have gotten kids together! And all of you that _aren't_ in a relation, have one as well! But your kids are all like, four or five years old – so silly! Also, I'm the oldest! So I'm the hero!'

'Yeah! He's the hero! Did you hear? All his sentences end with an exclamation mark! He's like the Batman to my Robin!' America shouted excitedly. 'All bow for the hero!'

'Did we just get an _extra_ America and England?' I heard some nations discuss in fear. 'Oh man, and I could barely keep up with just _one_ America and England!'

Germany all of a sudden cleared his throat, stopping all the worried murmuring.

'So, what you're trying to say is… these kids, they're all… really ours?'

'Yes – Jonathan, please come off the table, I'll take it from here.' England fixed the tie around his neck and avoided looking any of us in the eye.

'Right. It's just like Jonathan said – I created all of these kids. I can't tell you how – that classified information and my Queen _will _punish me if I decide to tell you anyway. But I swear, it was an accident. I was supposed to create just _one_ child, one perfect child, based on my and… hrm… America's genes, but then some dreadful things happened, and the result is now sitting on your collective laps.'

Obviously, there were still lots of unfilled holes left to… fill.

'But _how_!'

'Yeah! I mean, I didn't even know you knew I was in a relationship!'

'Heck, _I_ didn't even know Iwas!'

'When and where did you get our genes?'

'How can you possibly _accidentally_ mix up others genes and make a kid out of that!'

'**I don't bloody know, okay**!' England then all of a sudden snarled, _loudly _snarled, his fist crashing down hard on the table.

We all shut up again.

'I'm… I'm just as confused as you are, for Pete's sake!' he rattled on, eyebrows shaking desperately. 'But there was magic involved! Magic and DNA and—'

'CHEMICAL _**X**_!'

England groaned, looking tiredly at a innocently smiling America. 'Yes, thank you, America, for that lovely reference. Was that really necessary?'

'Yes, just as necessary as you thought it was to mess around with our genes.' America's smile faded away. 'Fucking hell, Iggy. If you weren't the personification of a goddamn country, you could get arrested for that. Now what are we supposed to do with these kids, huh? Raise them? And what _are_ they? Believe me, I like that kid you created for "us" – more like you created it for your egoistical, kid-wanting _self_, but whatever – but what _is_ he? A country? A city? A town? Or is he human?'

'I-I'm… I'm not so sure myself yet either,' England muttered, just as the rest of us very impressed by America's perfect usage of the right words – I mean, it's something we all could learn from, 'I… um, I've already informed all of your bosses about my mistake and I've asked all of your personal doctors to please help me with figuring out just what these children exactly _are_.'

The Netherlands mumbled something. Usually, just like his sister, we couldn't hear what he was saying because we were loud and noisy bastards. And unlike Femke, he always immediately stopped bothering to try and get our attention when he failed the first time.

But now, he accidentally _succeeded_ in getting someone's attention, because England looked at him questioningly.

'What was that you said, Netherlands? I didn't quite catch that. Could you please repeat yourself?' he asked him – with a face so damn pale, it was just like ash.

The Dutchman hesitated, sitting there with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. But then he repeated what he had said before.

'If the kids turn out to be human, we'll watch them die.'

A quiet flash of shock, fear and distress was felt through the already heavily severed atmosphere inside the congress room – and through our worn-out human bodies.

'That's right,' England finally said after the deadly silence, his voice strained and hollow, 'if the children turn out to be… mortal, we'll watch them grow up, getting older than our human appearances, and, eventually we'll… they'll…'

He didn't finish his sentence. But he didn't had to, since we all knew what he was trying to say.

'Oh _god_,' Antonio stammered, his eyes widened.

'_Really_ now?' France abruptly raised up from his chair, smacking his hands on the table. 'So, just for fun, like some kind of sick _jeu_, let's say the authorities will indeed try to find out just what our children are. In the meantime, we'll take care of them, raise them, play with them – and eventually, we'll grow to _love _them. And then, when it turns out they're humans or other… other _die-able _species, we'll just _lose them_?'

England bit his lower lip. 'France, I—'

But France hadn't finished yet.

'You think it's fun, _Angleterre_, to watch the humans you love die?'

'N-no, I…'

'During my whole life, I've loved so many humans. So many beautiful, beautiful humans. I've seen wonderful men die. I've seen wonderful women die as well. I have even seen the death of the human girl I probably have loved the most, _right in front of me_, and all I could do was hope she wasn't in too much pain and _let it happen_. She _loved_ me, and I let her _burn_.'

France clutched his chest and let his head hang, making helpless sobbing sounds. His hair messily dangled in front of his face, but this time, he didn't even care.

'And now,' he hissed, his breath hitching, 'now you're saying you might be giving us the horrible honor of watching _our children die, before our very own eyes_. Maybe we'll even see them go to the other side _sooner_, because of a sickness or even a car accident. Well, thank you very much, _Angleterre_.'

Then he just couldn't go further anymore and broke down in tears. He didn't storm out of the room, though – he gracefully moved the chair away and swiftly walked out of the meeting, closing the door behind him. His… daughter, apparently, watched him in confusion and walked towards the door as well, placing her little hands on it.

'Papa? Papa, _où t'es_?'

…

…

D-dammit, w-well fuck this shit _I was actually fucking crying right now what the __**hell**__!_

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one rubbing his eyes and gritting his teeth in frustration – all the other countries looked like they were already mourning their young kids.

And you know what?

I think, in a way, they really _were_.


	8. Quote 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: After last week's depressing chapter, I think it's time for a lighter, happier and somewhat cute chapter already. Well, here it is! _^^ _Yay, I was so happy to be able to write one of these!~_

_A/n2: Next week, __**I'm updating on Friday-morning. **__That's because I'm staying over at a friend for a couple of days, and I really don't want to update while she's looking over my shoulder, wondering what the hell I'm doing and why everything's in English and stuff. Just so you know!~_

_A/n3: W.C. Fields gets the honor of uttering the quote for this chapter. I bet he'd be very pleased. Pfffrrt. _XDDD  
_Anyway, have a funfact: in the Netherlands, a toilet is called both toilet and… a WC (pronounced as wee-cee, although our ee's sounds way different than yours, probably). Because WC stands for Water Closet or something. Which is English, yes – I don't get it either.  
__Anyway, I confess, I snickered when typing this name. Yes. I'm an adult woman and I snickered at W.C. Fields (fields of toilets!).You may make fun of me now. _*bows head*

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 8:

**I like children. If they're properly cooked. **  
_W.C. Fields  
__(American comedian, actor and author)_

After France had left the conference room, Femke decided to call off the meeting earlier than we had planned.

Nobody protested, though, and in a matter of mere minutes, everybody had left the building – in quiet, scary silence. They all grabbed their kids, hopped into their cars without saying goodbye, and went home.

Antonio, the kids and I did so as well, and we were already halfway home when Antonio was the first one to actually _say_ something already.

'So, that was… well, awful.'

'Yep,' I said, because it was.

'What are we supposed to do _now_?' He frowned deeply. I noticed Antonio started to squeeze into the wheel. Normally, I'd nag or yell at him to stop attempting to break my stuff, dammit, but right now, I could only stare. That's pretty much _all _I had done during the meeting as well – stare.

'I think…' I muttered eventually, '…that we have no choice but to take care of the demon children for now.'

In spite of his tumbling, negative emotions, Antonio smiled. 'Ah, you're still calling them that, aren't you?'

'I have to – they won't tell me their names. If they even _have_ names. Little secretive bastards.'

'How are they doing?'

I looked aside of me. All three of the kids were sleeping soundly. Dumb Kid had his ring finger and pinky in his mouth again, Creepy Kid was clutching Moody Kid's arm in between his own, and Moody Kid even frowned in her sleep.

'They're asleep,' I said, sitting back and looking out of the window.

'No wonder,' Antonio sighed, 'this has been a busy afternoon for them.'

'For us as well,' I reminded him. 'I mean, we're suddenly parents. What the _fuck_. I never thought I'd be a father one day, just like that.'

Antonio glanced at me through the driving mirror. His eyes shone hopefully.

'Does… does that mean you've accepted them as _ours_, Lovi?'

I bit my lip and dug my nails into my knees. 'I didn't have a _choice_, did I? After all that shit England and that kid of his have said, and after observing these little runts for a little while, I… well, I think I finally realize they really are… _our_ kids. O-our sons and daughter.'

'So you realize it. That… that makes me happy, Lovi.'

'I know, I know…'

'Does it make _you_ happy as well?'

'I don't know yet. Sorry.'

'That's alright, sweetie. Take all the time you need to get used to them.'

I snorted. 'Hey, don't talk like_ I'm_ the rookie here! You've never been father before, either.'

'No, but I did raise some nations,' Antonio kindly informed me.

I smirked. '_Did_ you now.'

'Yup, you might know one of them fairly well. Boy, he sure was a handful!'

'Cheeky bastard.'

Antonio chuckled. 'Ah, but I can't wait to see you pushing the kids around in a baby stroller!~ You'll look so _cute_, all daddy-like!~'

'For your information, they're four to five years old, Antonio. They can already _walk_, in case you didn't notice,' I said, rolling my eyes.

'Ah, that's right…' Antonio heaved a deep sight. 'We already skipped their baby-phase, didn't we…'

Shit, he was beginning to feel down, I could see it. He probably was thinking about the none-too-happy "they could be human" -scenario again. Hastily, I tried to think of something to cheer him up.

'…but, um, hey, we could make a swing in the garden, and some other toy shit, and then you could watch me acting all cute with the kids in our own personal little playfield!'

'…wha… yes, _yes_!' Antonio immediately regained his big, bright smile again. 'We could do that!'

'Right?'

'Right!'

'And we'd look pretty damn _modern_ if we would go for a walk in town. Like those hipster homo-dads. Looking all spiffy and cool with their little gremlins running around their feet as they shamelessly flirt in public and tie their shirts and blouses around their necks in fashionable knots and shit…'

Antonio smiled. 'You'd like to do that, too?'

'Hell no – I'm not a damn hipster, I don't tie my shirts and blouses around their necks in knots. I'll need to iron them again later!'

'I'm talking about flirting in public, Lovi.'

All of a sudden, Antonio's free hand was – weirdly, since he was still driving – patting my knee. I felt my cheeks warming up and wondered whether to grab his hand or push it away. In the end, I didn't do either of them.

'I… y-you know I rather not flirt in public, dammit…' I mumbled.

'Ah, but I do. And I will.'

I allowed a small smile to appear. 'Asshole.'

'I love you too. Very much.'

'D-do you?' I grinned shyly – I liked this game. 'How… how much do you love me, then?'

'Oh, I'll _show_ you how much – tonight.'

I thought about all the sex we had just yesterday and frowned. 'Is that even _healthy_? I mean, we… sure had lots of sex yesterday, so…'

'Lovino, I haven't seen, felt or touched you in _months_.' Antonio sounded very serious. 'You think yesterday night was enough to make up for all the nights I couldn't hold and love you?'

'No, I-I guess not,' I said. Goddammit, now I just couldn't stop smiling and fumbling around.

'Exactly,' Antonio said, and I saw (with a little help from the rear-view window) he was also smiling broadly. 'You better prepare yourself, Lovi, 'cause the second I happen to notice a good opportunity to do stuff to you, I _will_ do stuff to you.'

'Good stuff?'

'_Wonderful_ stuff.'

'Well, in that case… in that case… well, in that case, I… I can't wait.'

I still stammered so goddamn much whenever that sexy bastard was shamelessly seducing me like this, it was almost humiliating.

But on the other hand, it also made me forget about the pile of _shit _we were currently struggling in. Metaphorical shit, of course. I'd probably pass out from the stench if we were in _real_ shit.

…

…also, why did my personal rambling pretty much _always_ seemed to end in something with _shit_ lately? I mean, shit, what's _that_ all about!

…

Maybe I just need to shit— I mean _shut _the fuck up. Yes. Good plan.

**\0o0/**

When we arrived at our House, the kids were still having fun in dreamland.

It was something of a relief for me to see that none of them seemed to have my weird insomnia-thing, but then again, who says kids get _all_ the traits their parents have? Nobody does, and that's good, and also, I wouldn't know what to fucking do if one of them came to me later this day and told me he/she can't sleep because his/her significant other isn't there to hold him/her.

…

Unless they meant a stuffed toy-animal or something.

But wait, we didn't have any kid shit around Antonio's place.

'We really should get some kid stuff,' I told Antonio, as we got out of the car. 'The House really isn't a place for demon children right now.'

Antonio nodded excitedly. 'You're right – so let's do that tomorrow! Let's go to town and buy dry, dusty bones, and fiery bed sheets, and other things that are especially meant for demon children! Like a lava pit.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'Don't mock me, dammit.'

'Sorry.' He grinned. 'But really, we indeed should get some toys and other cute kids stuff. It'll be great!'

'You're really enjoying this, aren't you?' I noticed, watching him carefully take out both Dumb and Moody Kid.

'Yep!' he said, winking and walking off.

And shit, I didn't know _how_ that man did it, but for some reason, the kids didn't even wake up as he wandered towards our front door with the two of them hanging over his shoulder.

'He's like the goddamn Pied Piper of Hamelin, only less creepy,' I muttered to myself, turning to the remaining, sleeping kid on the car seat.

Talking about creepy – Creepy Kid even seemed to _sleep _evilly. Scary little shit probably _enjoyed_ nightmares, judging on those twisting limbs and that suspicious smile. Still, that wasn't very nice of me to think, since I had already seen the kid was, above all, just a _kid_ – and he wasn't _mean_. Hell, of all three kids, he probably thought the _friendliest_ of me up to this point.

And that was a good thing.

I guess.

Oh well. I shrugged and then looked at the sleeping kid, wondering how the hell I should take him out of the car _without_ waking him up. I mean, I'm no magic Spaniard with hands of fucking _silk _that can hold kids like they're fucking floating in the air, dammit, and I don't think I've ever even held a kid at _all_.

Unless it was Antonio, since he's a grown baby. Ha!

…

Anyway…

I slowly bent over, almost bumped my head to the low roof of the car, and took hold of Creepy Kid. Then, I carefully started… sliiiiiiiding him more towards the opened door, like _swiiiiiissssshhhh_, and then, just when the kid was about to drop out of the vehicle like some overripe apple, I lifted him up. Instantly, his head rolled back – so I quickly made him rest against my chest before his head would… I don't know, snap off or something.

And then I was carrying a kid for the very first time.

…

Oh my _god_, I was carrying a kid _for the very first time!_

'Antonio, Antonio! Look! I'm not a virgin anymore!' I happily announced to Antonio as I walked towards the House.

Antonio, who had just unlocked the front door, looked at me _very_ strangely, but smiled anyway. 'Oh I _know,_ Lovi!~'

'N-no, I'm not talking about _that_, you pervert!' I felt a blush creeping up from my neck to my face when I realized my sentence _indeed_ must have sounded kind of weird. 'Y-you know what I mean, dammit…'

He looked at my – somewhat cramped-up – grip on Creepy Kid and nodded knowingly. 'Yeah.'

'Cool, right?' I grinned.

'Very cool!' Antonio agreed. 'You're the coolest coo-coo I know!'

'I'm not sure what you're even saying, but _hell_ yeah!'

Proud as a king, which probably isn't even a saying, but fuck that, it sounded awesome so it _should _be a saying, I walked inside the House, followed by a chuckling Antonio.

**\0o0/**

We carefully installed the demon children in one of Antonio's many, many bedrooms, which were mine as well, now that I think about it, which was fucking awesome, but unpractical (I mean, it's confusing as fuck).

As we covered the kids with sheets and blankets, we started a whispering discussion.

'Is it… _wise_ to put all three of them in just one bed?'

'Ah, for today, that'll be fine, Lovi. We'll ask them tomorrow what they want, and if they say they rather sleep alone, then we'll give them separate bedrooms. I got lots of them anyway!~'

'No no – all of them sleeping in one room is fine by me, but I'm not so sure about one bed…'

'Hm… shall we give them apart beds tomorrow, then?'

'That's a better idea, yes.'

'Maybe we should have made them wear pajama's…'

'Fuck – you mean they're still wearing their clothes?'

'Well, did _you_ change their clothes, then?'

'Damn. Oh well, never mind. We still have to have dinner later anyway, so we'll put them in those white things later tonight, when they're going back to bed again.'

'Sounds good to me!'

Content with our very mature decision – we actually resolved something that could have been a problem, we were like _adults_! – we sneaked out of the room and softly closed the door behind us.

'Good job,' Antonio said to me.

'Yes, you too,' I responded.

He smiled at me.

I smiled at him.

And then he suddenly _threw_ me against a wall and started kissing me like his life fucking depended on it.

Of course, I had seen this coming – and I kissed him back just as furiously, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing myself against him in a suggestive manner that didn't need any explanation.

'God, I _want_ you…' I heard him hiss when he pulled away for a second, '…you've been so damn handsome and cute all day long… you must be doing this on purpose, driving me insane like that…'

'Right… right back at you,' I mumbled, ripping his stupid buttoned shirt open like _**wham**_, 'you… y-you hot, sweet bastard… now look what you made me do, dammit, that was a wonderful shirt, raaaaah, it looked so good on you, too, and now I've fucking destroyed it…'

He laughed a bit breathlessly and kissed me again, now with opened mouth. I moaned as soft as I could as he dominantly rubbed our tongues together – but Antonio groaned _loudly_ when I started to grope his ass.

Fucking noisy bastard – we were still standing right before the bedroom, dammit!

'A-Antonio,' I quickly muttered, in between my panting and gasping as he enthusiastically slid his hands inside my pants and cupped my butt as well, '…n-not here, you moron, they… they'll wake up, dammit…'

That seemed to make Antonio snap out of his horny daze, for a second, and he licked his lips thoughtfully, before lifting me up and tossing me over his shoulder like some sort of… of _sandbag_. Then he hurried out of the hallway.

I swore between my teeth because _dammit_, my stiff… stiffness was pressed against Antonio in a way that made it painful whenever he bounced around too much.

'Ou-ch-you-re-fuck-ing-hur-ting-me!' I complained – in phases, holding on to him tightly as he _bulldozered_ off the goddamn _stairs_ like a huge, insane and very horny rabbit, and _shit that __**hurt!**_

'Sor-ry-sor-ry-sor-ry,' he stammered, wheezing, 'al-most-down-stai-rs!'

I smacked the back of his head anyway – not too hard, but still.

'_Ou_-ch-Lo-vi!'

Annoyed or not, that reaction made me giggle – which came out really weirdly as well, but like hell I'm going to say how that sounded.

After we _finally thank GOD _came downstairs, Antonio immediately rushed to the living room, to the nearest couch, and – now all of a sudden surprisingly thoughtful – laid me down on it.

'A-asshole…' I breathed heavily as he undid my pants and tossed them away. 'You… you should… be more careful, dammit…'

'I-I know, I know, sorry…' He quickly pulled his pants down and awkwardly kicked them off, hopping around the room for a while before he actually managed to lose them – which, again, made me snicker and chuckle like some damn _girl_ – but he still looked crazily attractive as he finally grabbed my ankles and spread my legs apart.

'Okay then,' he said, regaining his breath again – and pouted when he noticed I was, despite all of his good looks, still _motherfucking laughing my ass off_.

'Loviiii!' he whined, jerking on my legs. 'I can't do it if you don't stop laughing at me!'

I wanted to say I was sorry, but somehow, the image of Antonio failing to have sex with me and lying on top of me all frustrated and shit only made me laugh more, and harder, and _shit my world _if I wasn't being _extremely_ annoying.

But that all suddenly stopped when Antonio lowered himself to me and kissed me again – deeply and demandingly.

Oh _yes_.

Yes, that sure shut me up.

Antonio, who was glad I had stopped laughing and even happier to notice I was getting hot and bothered again because of him, took a hold of my hips and pulled me closer to his lower body.

'Lovi, we… we probably don't have much time to do it, because we still need to prepare dinner, and get the kids out of bed again, so… so this'll be quick, okay?'

I frowned. 'You bastard. Are you warning me this might not feel so good for me because you're in a hurry?'

'No – I'm just worried you might pass out when I'll let you come that fast.' His eyes twinkled teasingly.

My cheeks started to burn even more now and I wanted to say that I was alright with that, but Antonio was faster than I thought – and before I knew it I was gasping and panting and scratching my nails down his back as he hastily, but passionately made love to me.

**\0o0/**

Not even _ten fucking minutes later_, we were already fully satisfied – and dressed – and grinned stupidly at each other as we sluggishly walked into the kitchen.

'Well, that… that _was_ fast,' I said, sitting down on the table – not the best idea of me, but I decided not to wince or anything and just sit the hell out of that table.

'Right?' Antonio said, his voice telling me he didn't know to be proud of that or not, and put on an apron. He couldn't tie it on his own though, because… well, I don't know, he just couldn't and needed my help.

Relieved that I could get off the painfully _hard_ table, I rushed to his side and tied the apron, half-ignoring the loving after-sex gaze I felt he was giving me, right over his shoulder, and tried to think of a topic to talk about.

'So, what… what are you going to prepare for dinner?'

'Good question!' He snapped out of it and frowned. 'Oh, this could be difficult. I don't even know what the kids like to eat…'

'Maybe something easy to start with.' I suddenly felt the very _gay_ urge to hug him, so I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him a bit, pressing my face against his back. 'Some…something nice and sweet, p-perhaps…'

'Just as nice and sweet as you, my love?' He softly caressed my arms.

'I-I'm not.'

'Yes you are.'

'I'm not, dammit, and why don't you make… soup or something?'

'Oh, yes, homemade tomato soup with some freshy-baked bread!'

'Good,' I said, letting him go, 'then you'll go cook, I'll prepare the evil, mean, shockingly hard bastard-table.'

'You shouldn't sit on hard things after having sex, Lovi.'

'Shut up, you ass-molester.'

He chuckled and turned to the refrigerator. I also decided to just get on with what I was planning to do – and therefore, I started to look for a nice tablecloth and some plates.

As I prepared the table, I couldn't help but feel weird. It just was so very… _unusual_, this… this atmosphere here. It felt cozy, but it also felt strange. Unknown. Scary, even. I seriously didn't know how to handle it.

I sneakily peeked at Antonio, still standing in front of the counter. He was now chopping up some tomatoes and hummed – he sure liked to hum – something that sounded upbeat and joyful. I bet he loved it, this new lifestyle that we were going to have for the following… well, at least the following weeks, probably. I knew this whole idea of us, being _fathers_, probably made him super-excited.

But… as for me…

I gulped and slowly put down the spoons. In its reflection, I could see my own white, worried face.

…as for me… the idea of having kids only made me feel anxious and nauseous.


	9. Quote 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Yay, early update is early!~ I hope you'll enjoy this chapter - and sorry for its relative shortness.  
__In case you're so friendly and wonderful to leave me a review, I'll try to answer them as soon as I can: I'm staying over at my friend's house, so it'll probably take a little while before I'm able to. Monday, I guess. But still!~  
__Also, next week, I'm updating on Saturday-morning again._^^

_A/n2: The past few weeks, I've decided to finally read all the Harry Potter-books. When I was young(er), I've always had books 1 to 4, but then I grew older and decided I didn't want to read fantasy stories anymore. And I pretty much succeeded into not-reading anything Harry Potter-related for more than 10 years.  
__But then I suddenly thought 'I should read all the books and learn from the writer!' and so, I went and read all of the books anyway. In less than a week, I read everythingggggg, and now, I'm watching all of the movies. I'm currently watching the fourth movie. Yay! I have no life! _8DDDDDDD

_A/n3: Also, I want to read a new book, but I'm kind of scared to do so: it's Lolita, by mister Nabokov. But seriously, even the title and the picture on the book freak me out, so I wonder if I ever gather the courage to just start reading and let the disgusting narrator of the book tell me his awful tale…_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 9:

**The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown. **  
_Angela Carter  
__(English novelist and journalist)_

I don't know what time it was, but at a certain point, Antonio announced he was going to get the kids. Because one: the dinner was ready, and two: we could actually _hear _them, making uncanny noises upstairs.

Like fucking _poltergeists_.

'Okay!' Antonio said, losing the apron. 'I'll go get the kids, so why don't you put some pillows on those books, hmm?'

Because of the fact that our chairs' seats were kind of... well, low, I had placed piles of books on three of them – that way, the demon children were able to sit with us without feeling neglected or overruled or unseen or whatever.

Antonio had loved the idea, chirping how thoughtful I was and all, but I didn't agree. I just didn't really feel like having to hear the kids' mind-shattering whining after they were seated and discovered the only thing we would see of them was their evil forehead.

…

That's right, I still didn't really _like_ the kids. No, let me put it like this: I didn't like the ideaof _having_ kids.

And I didn't even have to wonder why that was – I _knew _why that was. The kids had brutally _invaded_ our lives, just like that. No warning, no signs before it happened – it just _happened_. The only thing Antonio and I could do was accept it and try to make the best out of it.

You see, when you look at it like that, human couples have it pretty easy. Before _they_ get their kids, the female one of them gets pregnant. Pregnancy is a wonderful thing, because it means the kid growing inside of the woman like some sort of parasite can _still be removed _in the first few weeks. The first few weeks are therefore for the couple to decide whether they like or don't like this… major change. Is it unwanted? Out with it! Is it wanted? Let's keep the little pest!

Then, after that decision is made, the couple still has, like, eight, nine months left to fully prepare themselves for the new kid. They can read books about nature and nurture and shit, make their house kid-proof, put away their breakable shit, have panic-attacks (like 'SHIT CHANGED MY MIND IS IT TOO LATE TO GET RID OF IT AT THIS STADIUM') and go to scary yoga-like things with the woman, so that they both get the feeling they're doing something good and useful, even though pregnancy makes the woman look like a fat toad and the man like a goddamn train wreck.

After that, the woman gives birth, which apparently is _**awfully horribly disgusting and gory**_, and after that, if the woman doesn't rip apart or bleeds to death or turns insane after the birth (I'm not shitting you, it apparently happens quite often), she and her lovely lover have a baby, hooray, no more decent sleeping for us, but whatever, we are parents, oh my god, when was the last time we had sex without I felt like kicking you off me, you ugly hippo.

…

Still, humans are more lucky that us humble nations are right now, because we _couldn't _prepare ourselves. I mean, obviously, humans need to prepare themselves for a kid for at least nine months – so why didn't _we _at least get those nine months? So unfair, dammit!

I placed the pillows on top of the three book-piled chairs, then grumpily sat down on my own pillow-updated chair – now separated from Antonio's by three shitty chairs in between us.

I really wondered if this was going to work out.

I really, really wondered about that…

**\0o0/**

'And here we are!~'

Out of seemingly nowhere, Antonio popped up, the demon children dangling on him like weird little monkeys. Moody Kid was sitting on his shoulders and pulled on his hair, Dumb Kid hang on one of his arms and Creepy Kid had clung himself to the back of Antonio's shirt.

He gave me a happy, yet urgent look. 'Lovi, will you help me put them on their chairs?'

'Sure,' I said, feeling sorry for the poor bastard, and plucked the boys of his body, kind of roughly planting them on the chairs I had prepared for this faithful event.

Antonio smiled brightly at me. 'Thank you, sweetie!' He swooped the girl off his shoulders and placed her on the chair next to him, right around the corner.

We sat like this: me, corner of the table, Dumb Kid, Creepy Kid, Moody Kid, corner of the table, Antonio. Not sure if it was a _good_ arrangement of chairs, but it would have to do right now.

As the kids looked at the neat table in front of them and started waving around with the spoons, Antonio poured soup into the bowls. That apparently was a very special thing that needed to be carefully observed, because all kids immediately lost their attention for their spoons and gaped at Antonio's soup-delivering skills like they hadn't ever seen anything like it before.

…

Which… probably was _just_ the case, but still. It was fucking _soup_. Get over it already.

'There!' After pouring soup in his own, remaining bowl, Antonio sat down again and folded his hands. 'Let's pray.'

…

What, surprised? You shouldn't be. Antonio and I were Catholic, so of course we prayed before eating. If we didn't forget, that is.

We weren't really _good _Catholics, though, so our prayers weren't that complex.

'Thanks for the food – I really felt like eating tomato soup, so yay!~'

I told you so.

Anyway, I raised an eyebrow at Antonio. 'I don't think you should thank God for making you eat tomato soup, Antonio – you decided that by yourself.'

Antonio looked at me confusedly. 'But _you_ came with the idea.'

'Um… yes.'

'So…' he frowned, intrigued, '…should I thank and pray to _you_, then?'

'That is one spooky proposal.' I shuddered. 'No thank you.'

'Okay!' Antonio shrugged and smiled, and nodded at the kids. 'In any case, enjoy your meal, kiddos!'

Then he started eating.

Naturally, the kids and I gave him this "what the hell, are you just ignoring the fact we're/they're too young to handle fucking _spoons and knives_" -look, but Antonio didn't seem to notice and happily ate away – but I could understand, sort of, because we also hadn't eaten anything yet.

Then again, what did he do when _I_ was young and didn't know how to eat?

Hesitantly, Dumb Kid was the first one that decided to take the risk – and he…

…raised his hands up in the air, ready to make them splatter down into the **boiling hot soup oh my GOD!**

'No!' I said, grabbing the kid's hands before he could execute his stupid plan. 'You moron, you're not supposed to smash your hands into the soup – you eat it! With a spoon! Like this!'

I showed him my fantastic soup-eating ability, and yes, the boy was impressed, slowly lowering his hands and grabbed the spoon, before dipping it into the soup. Creepy Kid and Moody Kid knew enough and mimicked him – but they did a much better job at it, since Dumb Kid held it backwards and therefore couldn't even have a _sip_.

'You have to blow first,' I heard Antonio – well, look who finally realized his rookie parent mistake – say, and he blew over the small amount of soup his spoon held into the air. Moody Kid stared at the example like Antonio was doing a fucking opera, before carefully attempting to cool the soup as well, blowing red shit _all_ _over_ the table.

'Oh,' she said, looking sad.

Creepy Kid thought it was wonderful, though, and also _sprayed _tomato soup into the air, cheering and laughing like he was in a goddamn circus.

'Hey! You stop that!' Antonio then all of a sudden snarled at him – just at him. It startled me and all three of the kids, especially Creepy Kid, who froze in all of his movements.

'Don't waste good food!' Antonio gave him a stern look. 'Just eat it. Don't make me repeat myself.'

After that, he continued helping Moody Kid to cool off her soup, now all smiles again. Dumb Kid kept trying to even _gather _some soup in the first place, and Creepy Kid now looked more like Miserable Kid.

I looked from the kid to Antonio, blinking.

Wow.

_Woow_.

Now _that_ was _scary_. And _mean_, too!

I cost me a lot of energy to prevent myself from snapping at Antonio for snapping at Creepy Kid – I mean, sure, he was a creep, but he was a goddamn _child_, he didn't have to shout at him like that – but I pulled it off, and decided to help both Dumb and Creepy Kid, deliberately ignoring Antonio.

'Come here,' I sighed, moving my chair closer to Dumb Kid's, and grabbed his already-with-tomato-soup-covered hand that still held the spoon, slowly lowering it into the soup. Dumb Kid watched it in amazement.

'Just like that,' I said. 'And now, you blow over it – not too hard, just a bit, make sure it stays on the spoon. And after that, you guide it into your mouth and eat it. See?'

I watched Dumb Kid slowly putting the spoon into his mouth, his eyes wide open in bewilderment, oh my god, I'm really _eating_, and gave him a small smile.

'Yes, just like that. Well done.'

'Ehehe,' Dumb Kid beamed a goofy smile at me in return, and tried to eat more of the soup all by himself now.

'Oh, oh!' Creepy Kid stammered. I looked at him for a sec, and as soon as he saw I was looking at him, he quickly did everything I had showed before, grinning hopefully and tomato-souply at me afterwards.

_I can do that, too! He's not better than me, I… I can be good, too!_

…

O-oh.

'Y-yes, good job!' I hastily told the boy, just when his eyes were beginning to lose that hopeful sparkle, and I swallowed the lump that I suddenly felt being stuck inside my throat. 'Now… now eat more of it, okay? Try to finish it.'

Creepy Kid's smile instantly increased and he nodded wildly, turning to face his soup again.

'Aww, Lovi, you're such a good father figure!~'

I looked up. Antonio smiled all friendly and endeared at me, and normally, I'd just blush and mutter to stop complimenting me, dammit, but right now, I _glared_ at him.

Antonio was a bit surprised to see me look at him like that and wanted to ask what was wrong, but then Dumb Kid asked for his attention, because he also wanted show _him_ just how good he had become in eating soup, even though he was pretty much looking like a freshly-slaughtered corpse now.

'Awww, how cute you are, all covered in soup!~' Antonio cooed, even though he had nagged at Creepy Kid earlier for spoiling soup.

I frowned, but didn't say anything and ate my soup.

With nothing remarkable happing in the following half hour, we eventually finished our dinner.

**\0o0/**

Because we really didn't know how to amuse the demon children after dinner, Antonio just opened the door to the garden – and his tomato-fields, he'd regret that later – and told the kids to play around outside for a while.

'It's very nice weather,' he told me, 'and it'll make them tired, so we can put them back to bed without too much trouble later.'

'Yes, but what will you do if they run away?' I said, watching in concern as the kids ran into the green area outside all excitedly like the mutated puppies they were.

He handwaved my worries away and walked back to the mess that was the kitchen. 'Ah, don't be silly, they won't run away.'

_'Really_ now? I mean, sure, you acted nice towards the girl and the stupid-looking kid, so I guess they'll stay. But I'm not too sure about the scary kid.'

**Da-da-da-_dum!_**

Antonio stopped walking away and came back, giving me a weird look.

'What do you mean?'

'You _know_ what I mean,' I huffed, folding my arms. 'Why the fuck did you act like such a _douche_ towards him?'

'Because he's basically a miniature version of who I once was,' Antonio instantly said.

...

Whoa.

Okay – brutal honesty. I liked that.

I stared at him, impressed. No denying, no crying, no tensing-up – he actually _said_ what I thought he wouldn't never _ever_ dare to say. Out loud, I mean.

'So you've noticed as well,' I finally said, sighing.

'Of course,' Antonio nodded. He was smiling, but there was something like sadness and regret in his smile now. 'I was a sadistic psychopath, back in the old days. I liked to kill to get what I want. I loved to hurt people, if that meant I would reach my goals faster. It took me years to… get more normal. You can only imagine how awful it is for me to all of a sudden be confronted with my past again.'

'He sure likes to torture bugs,' I nodded understandingly, wincing when I saw Creepy Kid _stampedeing_ all over an ant's nest.

'Yes.' Antonio sounded almost depressed. 'He really _does _seem to like hurting those who are weak and don't stand a chance against him. He really _does_ remind me of… _me_.'

'So that's why you've been avoiding touching him,' I said. '_Now_ we're getting somewhere.'

He shrank in dismay. '…a-ah, so you've seen that, too?'

'I see _everything_. I'm a goddamn eagle.'

'I'm… I'm a bad father, aren't I…'

Okay, I now had to put an end to his moaning, or I'd smack him for being such a self-pitying wuss.

'Look, Antonio,' I started, grabbing his chin and turning it to me with one firm twist of the wrist, 'you are you, and that kid's himself. Sure, he might has something sadistic about him. That's a very reasonable thing to think, since he's killing an army of poor, defenseless ants right now.'

Antonio smiled weakly. 'I sure hope you're planning to go somewhere with this.'

'Shush.'

'Also, I think you hurt my nec—'

'_Shush_, I said!' I squeezed his chin. 'Whatever that kid's doing, please keep in mind he's still _just a kid_. We can still teach him hurting others isn't a good thing to do, because he's a _kid_. He has feelings, too. He wants to be… wants to be loved as well, dammit.'

I felt I was starting to shake.

'Lovi…' Antonio watched me tear up and _also _started to tear up.

W-what the…

'W-what are _you_ getting all teary-eyed for!' I defensively sniped at him, fighting the desire to rub my sleeve over my face.

'I'm so sorry.' Antonio gently took my hands off his chin and held them in his own. 'You're right, he's just a kid, and he's a totally different person than I am. He just happens to have some of my genes, that's all. I get it now.'

...

Okay, that was easier than I thought.

Maybe too easy?

I looked at him thoroughly. 'Do you _really_ get it, Antonio?'

'Yes, Lovino. I do.' He smiled and nodded.

'Then I hope you'll… be nicer towards him from now on.' I sniveled and quickly wiped away some stupid tears.

'I will.'

'Or else I'll have to kick your ass.'

'Ah.'

'And that would be such a waste. You really do have a perfect ass. So don't make me kick it.'

'Okay.'

'Bastard.'

'That's not very cute.'

'Fuck you then.'

'Let's do that later.' Antonio grinned and gave me a soft little nudge. 'Now, choose what you want to do: keep an eye on the kids, or cleaning up the kitchen.'

I looked outside. I could see Dumb Kid, trying to pick a new flower, that was actually a tomato plant. Moody Kid looked like she had to either pee or poop really badly, and Creepy Kid was now approaching Peeping Rosita's cranky cat (named _Don Donaldo_, don't ask me why) with a motherfucking _rake_.

'Why don't _you_ go enjoy the innocent company of the demons children,' I therefore said, smiling and patting Antonio on the back, 'then _I'll _take care of the kitchen.'

'But you hate cleaning up! You sure?' Antonio asked.

'Oh I'm _sure _alright.'

I took another look outside. All three terrors were now executing the things they were planning to do and _oh_, it looked _ugly_.

'Hey,' Antonio suddenly said, cocking his head, 'why's the girl crouching down like that—oh GOD.'

I nodded. 'Yeah, she's doing just _that_. Well, good luck!'

I quickly turned around, retreating myself back into the safe haven that was the kitchen, and I never thought I'd ever say this, but thank you, God, Grandpa Rome or whoever was watching me, for allowing me to clean up this evil-infected kitchen.


	10. Quote 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1:Well! I'm going on some sort of mini-holiday next week, but I'll be back in time for the next update. We're going to the sea, which is never really that far away when you're living in the Netherlands – after all, a big part of the country is lying below sea level, so yeah!_

_A/n2: England's giving more explanations! Still: don't buy everything he's saying. You just __**know**__ something isn't quite right.  
__Also, I've received quite some questions about the names of the kids. If you really want to know them already, you should look up the final chapter of Bottoms Up – the names of the kids are mentioned there. You can say the dream-scene in Bottoms Up was some sort of… preview to this fic. Just so you know! _^^

_A/n3: I wonder who many of you still know Doctor Tosca and Doctor Delgado? Okay, for those who don't know them yet/anymore: Doctor Tosca is Lovino and Feliciano's personal doctor and Doctor Delgado is Antonio's personal doctor. It's my headcanon that all the countries have at least one human doctor that knows about their situation and tries to help them where possible, because shit might happen in the country itself when the personification isn't feeling well.  
__Doctor Tosca is an intelligent, young Italian woman with a sarcastic sense of humor and huge… tracts of land. Doctor Delgado is an old, cranky and controversial Spaniard that dislikes kids, gay people and Lovino greatly and thinks Lovi's the source of all that makes Antonio feel ill. The more you know!~_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 10:

**The soul is healed by being with children. **  
_Fyodor Dostoyevsky  
__(Russian author)_

Needless to say, Antonio was looking pretty cranky when he, eventually, came back inside with the kids.

Especially when he found me, chilling in the living room with some nice, Italian wine and a tasty little snack _just because I fucking could_.

'Hey,' I greeted him, sipping from my _Primitivo_. 'You're back fast. Are they done playing already?'

Antonio grimaced and snorted, but didn't say anything right away. Underneath his arms, he held Moody Kid and Dumb Kid, who both looked dirty and muddy. Creepy Kid was walking next to him, tugging on his leg and blabbering excitedly about his brave quest to kill Don Donaldo (or so I assumed - I don't speak kiddish, after all).

'Did you have fun?' I sheepishly asked (a _very_ disgruntled looking) Antonio.

He squeezed his eyes almost shut. I finally noticed the traces of tomato on his face.

'One of the boys pulled out my favorite tomato plant. The other boy wanted to rake the neighbor's cat to death. The girl then went to do a number two into the hole my poor tomato plant left. She screamed at me when I told her she should do that on the toilet and then rubbed a tomato in my face.'

'Oh,' I said. 'Well, you should be happy she didn't rub something _else _in your face.'

After that, I hastily looked away, my hands clasped over my mouth, desperately trying to muffle specific sounds that were coming out.

…

…

Oh god.

'Are you… _laughing_?' I heard Antonio ask after a short and loaded silence. I dared to look at him again, and ohhh _Jesus_, he looked so pissed and annoyed, I felt I needed to run away if I knew what was good for me, but I didn't.

'Pffffrrrrt… _no _I'm not laughing,' I instead tried to lie to him, but it was very difficult to be taken seriously when you're red from almost choking in your own laughter.

Antonio scowled. 'You _are _laughing. Here I am, all torn up, and you're laughing at my misery.'

'I-I'm _not_, dammit…' I choked out, '…I'm… I-I'm just very happy to see you!'

'Oh_ really _now.'

'Yes… yes, really really!'

'Okay then!~'

Huh?

I glanced at his face. All of a sudden, Antonio was happily smiling again, looking like he didn't have a worry in the world. It was so unexpected and unsettling, it made me stop laughing right that instant.

'You okay?' I carefully asked as he put down the kids.

'Of course I am!' he said, nodding. 'Nothing makes me happier than watching you being very happy to see me!'

'Oh,' I said, immediately feeling a bit guilty.

'And yet, I don't think you're quite… _happy _enough.'

…

There was something wrong with that sentence. And there was something dark and evil shimmering through Antonio calm, green eyes.

Oh _shit_.

'W-what?' I stammered.

Antonio ignored me and crouched down, until he was at the same level as the kids around him. He smiled friendly at them.

'Okay kids, did you see how much Papa Lovi was laughing?'

I felt one of my eyes was starting to twitch. Papa Lovi – what the _fuck_?

However, the kids seem to be perfectly aware of what Antonio was talking about and they all obediently nodded, except for Dumb Kid, who happily shook 'no' with his head and bumped it against the wall.

'That's _right_, kiddo, he wasn't laughing that much at all! In fact, I think Papa Lovi is almost crying. Awww,' Antonio said.

'Baaaawwwwwww,' the kids repeated him.

'I'm _not_!' I protested. 'I feel fine!'

'Better go and make Papa Lovi feel better, kids!~ Good thing I know _juuuuust _what to do, namely, well…'

Antonio gave me another look and I'll be damned if that look wasn't the smuggest, most frightening thing I had seen that day.

'…we should _**tickle him**_.'

…

No.

No.

Just… no. Or actually, _**NOOOOO**_.

'You…' I slowly got off the sofa and swallowed, waving a finger at Antonio. '…you wouldn't fucking _dare_.'

He smirked. '_Watch_ me.'

All four now turned to me, some of them grinning, some of them giggling – but _all _of them _more_ than ready to motherfucking _**attack me**_.

'You madman, you _brainwashed_ them,' I whispered, horrified. 'Brainwashed them into thinking tickling is _good_. What a sick person you are.'

'Tell us when you're ready,' Antonio friendly informed me, half-heartedly holding back Moody Kid.

'Fuck,' I gasped and looked around me, looking for the nearest escape. Then Antonio started to laugh.

'Just kidding – we really don't care whether you're ready or not. LET'S GET HIM!'

And then he _**released the mini krakens.**_

**\0o0/**

Now, if I was Antonio, I would probably have shared all the evil things that had happen to me after he and the demon children had tackled me to the ground with his stupid, disgusting friends.

Like… telling them_ just how much_ I was yelling and trying to get away and stumbling over my own feet in my hurry to get – the – fuck – out – of – here.

Or laughing about how motherfucking _**petrified **_I looked when the four individuals started to tickle me at the same time, knowing all the places that would make me scream out the most.

Or grinning about how helplessly I was begging for mercy while laughing and gasping for breath at the same time.

Or gushing over how cutely Creepy Kid, Dumb Kid and Moody Kid were snickering and (supposedly _accidentally_) scratching me with their evil little fingers.

I'm not too sure he'd also tell his friends about the glorious fact his plan kind of backfired at a certain point, since the kids also started to tickle _him_ into damnation after they found out they had more or less _**killed me**_, but I _would_ tell them, and I would also say Antonio had soiled himself, ewwww, gross, even though he actually hadn't, but fuck that, _I'm_ telling the story, dammit.

…

A-anyway…

After a long and loud tickle-fight, all five of us ended up lying on the ground, panting, completely out of breath and surrounded by pillows and tired limbs and stuff that was once standing on a table, but now not anymore. All I could hear was heaving breathing, and that was a fucking _relief_, because it meant _everybody _was out of energy, so no more tickling. Hooray!

At least now I could think of a way to brutally kill Antonio _without_ having to fear for my life.

'Well, that… that was…' said Spanish bastard tried to say, wheezing.

'I can't feel my fucking _lungs_,' I cut him off with a high, shrill voice. 'I can't feel them anymore! They're… they've imploded into tiny bits. You, Antonio, have made my lungs implode into tiny bits. You _assfuck_!'

Antonio groaned, trying to get up. 'Language, Lovi – seriously, pay attention to what you're saying when the kids are around!'

I growled and wanted to tell him he could suck my massive dick, but then I felt something soft press on top of me.

With the last bit of strength I had in me, I lifted my head a bit – and I suddenly stared right into the face of Dumb Kid, smiling broadly at me, resting his chin and the rest of his head on my chest.

'Papa Lovi?'

I blinked. 'Y-yes?'

The kid smiled, now with his eyes as well, as if I had given him the answer he had been looking for all day, before he yawned and rubbed his head against me.

'Ehehehe.'

…

…

…

I-I was never going to get up from this cold floor, was I.

**\0o0/**

Eventually, me and Antonio got up from the floor – don't ask me how long it took me to decently get up though, 'cause it's seriously _hard _when there's a kid lying on top of you – and now, we were bringing the kids back to their (temporary?) bedroom again.

'So… I guess I'm… Papa Lovi, then,' I muttered, carefully walking upstairs with a half-asleep Dumb Kid dangling in my arms.

'You're Papa Lovi, yes,' I heard Antonio say, who was also climbing the stairs just behind me.

He carried both Creepy Kid and Moody Kid. They were awake, or at least more awake than their brother, but the fact that they didn't complain when Antonio announced they were going back to bed earlier, proved they indeed were very tired as well.

'Silly Lovi!~' Antonio laughed when I told him that. 'Kids who throw a tantrum after hearing they have to go to bed are _much_ more exhausted, most of the time! They just don't want to admit that. That's why they'll start acting like little monsters: to prove they are still full of energy. But they really, really aren't.'

I snorted and rolled with my eyes. 'Ohh, _thanks_ for this enlightening insight on kids and kicking their asses to bed, Papa Toni.'

…

…

…now _what_ did I just sarcastically say?

Because I can be such a stupid moron, I naively hoped Antonio hadn't heard what I had just said – but of course he had, dammit, and that's why I noticed he just couldn't stop smiling like some sort of drugged douchebag as we entered the kids' bedroom.

'Would you _please _stop that!' I hissed at him, putting Dumb Kid in bed.

'Stop doing what?' Antonio grinned. He placed Moody Kid and Creepy Kid next to Dumb Kid. While Dumb Kid instantly seemed to be asleep – like _snap_ – the other two didn't, but they weren't too wiggly either.

…

Let's hastily cover them up and hope that's a good thing, then.

**\0o0/**

'Papa Toni…' Antonio sighed dreamily when we left the room a little while later. 'I'm Papa Toni. That sounds very good. I could get used to a name like that!~'

'It's a _stupid_ name,' I naturally had to nag.

'But _you_ made it up, Lovi!' Antonio annoyingly pricked his finger into my cheek. 'You called me Papa Toni. How cute!~'

'It's not cute at all, dammit, it's… it's… get _away_ with that finger!' I slapped his finger away from me, '…i-it was only _logical _to call you Papa Toni, if you and the kids are going to call me Papa Lovi. I mean, t-they're also _your_ kids. Put one and one together, moron.'

'Yes, that's two, and then add three, and that makes five!' Antonio happily shared his infinite weirdo-knowledge.

'What the fuck are you even saying,' I grumbled.

'Ah, you know what I mean. And I know what _you_ mean, Lovi. You're right, if they're calling you Papa Lovi, they should call me Papa Toni. It's that easy.'

'T-that's what I'm saying, dammit…'

Antonio smiled and grabbed my hand. He didn't do anything weird with it after that – he just took it and held it, even while we were descending the stairs.

I hesitated. My natural instincts were, as always, yelling at me to free my hand from Antonio's kind grasp, since I'm fucked up like that. But everything else was telling me to shut up and keep walking like this, because it had been a while since the last time we had walked hand in hand this peacefully.

Scratch that – it had been a while since the last time we walked hand in hand at _all_.

So I ended up casually yet shakily twisting my hand, so that I could hold his hand just as friendly as he was holding mine. Or… or something.

Like this, we walked to the living room, once again, and sat down on the couch. We didn't say anything, we didn't even turn on the television or felt each other up – 'cause that's what we usually do when we're here and wondering what to do – no, we just… sat. And stared. And held hands. And… breathed and shit.

And all was quiet.

…

Until we, almost at the same time, heaved the _heaviest_ sighs in the history of sighs – I could swear I saw the leaves of the big fern in front of the couch swaying like there was an insane hurricane going on.

Antonio slumped down and rested his head on the back of the couch. 'You know what's bothering me the most right now, Lovino?'

'I don't know, it's either that killed tomato plant or that little "present" the girl left you in the garden.' I glanced at the room next to the living room. 'Or you're bitching about the kitchen.'

'Well, you didn't really _clean_ it, did you. You just dumped everything into the sink.'

I turned to him, my forehead wrinkled in pure, raw _fury_. 'Hey, you can't expect me to fucking—'

'But _no_, Lovino, rest at ease, that's not what's bothering me. The most.' He thought about it, scratching his head. 'I mean, all that you pointed out _is_ bothering me, yes, but there's something else that's bothering me the most.'

'What the fuck is it?' I huffed, spitefully tugging my hand out of his. Ha, that would teach him to look down on my amazing cleaning skills, dammit.

'The kids.' Antonio now looked so puzzled, he didn't even seem to mind I didn't hold his hand anymore. 'They are supposed to be ours, but we don't even know their names. We know nothing about them, except that they happen to look a lot like us. And sometimes act a lot like us. But not all the time. Do you understand what I mean?'

'Kind of,' I nodded – and nonchalantly took hold of his hand again, because if he wasn't going to pay attention anyway, I might as well just hold on to it a little longer.

Antonio indeed didn't notice and groaned softly. 'And they don't talk. Have you noticed that as well? I haven't heard them say a whole sentence yet. _Can_ they even talk?'

'Yes, they can. That dumb-looking kid, he—'

I paused midsentence, because thinking about that moment again made me feel strange, but not-necessary-bad things I had never felt before.

'He called you Papa Lovi.' Antonio finally shared a feeble, but honest smile with me and gripped my hand a bit tighter. 'That's right, he _did_ say something.'

'Maybe,' I started, 'maybe we should go see Doctor Tosca tomorrow. She might know what's the problem. She can help.'

'We could also ask Doctor Delgado—'

'_No_, that old, cranky bastard hates me and he hates kids and he will probably murder me if he finds out we have suddenly have become dads with kids looking partly like me running around the House.'

He clacked his tongue in understanding, which was a really weird thing to do. But I knew he meant to clack his tongue in understanding, so that probably made me the weirdest one here.

'Okay, we'll go visit your doctor tomorrow, Lovi. We'll…'

And then the phone – one of the abstractly-shaped phones Antonio had collected, they were still here, yes – started to ring.

**\0o0/**

It was England.

I knew, because Antonio, who had answered the phone, instantly pushed the horn in my face after picking up, his whole expression blank and cold and kind of dead-ish.

'What do _you _want,' I snarled as soon as I put the horn to my ear.

A short silence. Then I heard a bitter laugh.

'_Ah. So Spain instantly gave you the telephone when he heard it was me, didn't he.'_

I looked at Antonio, who still looked awful.

'God, you should _see_ how gray he's looking right now. He looks like motherfucking concrete now, dammit,' I told England. 'I can build a house with that much concrete.'

'_You never make sense, you peculiar little tosser,' _England said. _'Also, it's grey – not gray.'_

I frowned. 'How did you even _hear_ I said gray and not gre — you know what, whatever. And what the fuck, _I_ don't make sense? At least _I_ didn't randomly drop kids at your place to screw up your life, you bastard.'

'_Oh no, please don't start yelling at me.' _The Englishman moaned. _'Romano, I've been chewed out by so many countries already at this point, I almost feel sorry for all the chewing gum in the world. You have no idea how horrible I feel at this point.'_

'You've called the other countries as well?'

'_Well, yes. After the meeting had ended, I… felt like I hadn't given you all a proper apology, so, well… I'm sorry.'_

England hated saying sorry, I knew from experience, so this relatively easy-spoken apology surprised me.

'Did you practice on saying sorry, England?'

'_Sort of – it gets easier after saying it to dozens of nations that all wanted to drink my blood.'_

'Okay. Thanks for offering your apologies. Too bad we don't want them.' I sounded so damn cool when I was acting like an arrogant asshole on the phone. 'Anything else to say before I smack down the phone and ritually burn it?'

'_You know, saying those kinds of things actually rather frighten me, Romano, even if it's just an outing of your bizarre sense of humor. And yes. I do have more to say to you – and Spain, if he's still there.'_

'No, he's outside, sharpening his biggest axe now.'

'Are you talking about me?' Antonio, still sitting on the couch, confusedly said.

'Sssh Antonio – just sharpen that axe.'

On the other side of the line, I heard England, swallowing. _'H-he's what?'_

'Never mind – look, England, just tell me what you need to tell me and we're good, okay?' I sighed. I had enough of this conversation. I wanted it to end already.

'_Right.' _England was quiet for a little while, but then he took a deep breath. _'Alright, I also needed to tell you that you have to go to one of your personal doctors tomorrow. I'm surprised you haven't gone to one already today, but who am I. Anyway, your doctor will need to perform some basic DNA-like tests and all that nonsense and poppycock on the children, because we want to figure out just what kind of species they are. Both your and Spain's doctor are already informed about the situation, so everything should go smoothly.'_

'Okay. We were planning to visit my doctor tomorrow, so don't you worry your badly-combed, bushy eyebrows about that,' I said. 'Was that it?'

'_No – just one more thing._'

I grumbled and leaned against the couch. 'Yes?'

'_You're probably wondering why you and Spain have __**three**__ kids, right?' _England asked.

'Yes, but I guess that's because you hate us. Hate us _very_ much.'

'_No no, don't be silly, I don't hate you ijits – I just really, really dislike you.'_

'That's a relief.'

'_Anyway… the reason you and Spain have three kids is because, well… as you know, my experiment kind of went wrong. Instead of creating one perfect child, I ended up making lots of _im_perfect children. So there are some flaws, here and there.'_

'How could that even _happen_!'

'_There may or may not have been alcohol involved.'_

…

May or may not. Ohh, that's… clear.

'…so basically, you're saying you were drunk?' I asked.

I heard England huff in annoyance. _'I'm just saying that… according to the notes I made while being…spiritual drugged – don't ask me how I did that, I have no idea. France's kid, for example, is pretty much an exact copy of a young Marie-Antoinette, since I mixed her genes with France's… but she was an __**Austrian**__ of origin, so it's…it just makes no sense. Furthermore, Hungary and Austria's kid is the biggest and most annoying terror of all kids, because I accidentally made Hungary's genes outnumber Austria's. Also, Sweden and Finland's kid is a whiny little kid that won't let them sleep, ever, because… well, I forgot. And Belarus' kid probably has the most dark, disturbing behavior-problems of all the children.'_

'Because?'

'_Apparently, I foolishly thought Rasputin was born Belarusian.'_

'Holy _shit_, England.'

'_I do feel quite sorry about that, though.'_

'Well _hooray_.' I snorted. 'And as for me and Antonio… we just happen to have _three_ kids?'

'_Yes. But as some sort of compensation, they aren't as zappy and hysterical as the other kids. Maybe you already found out that much?'_

I thought about the tickle-attack and wondered just how "zappy and hysterical" the _other_ kids had to be, if England went easy on the three demons children.

I was also wondering about something else.

'England, why do you _know _these fun facts and shit about all those kids? I mean, they aren't _yours_, right?'

'_I already TOLD you – I made __**notes**__, you wanker. LOTS of them.' _England got some of his confidence back, I could hear it in the tone of his voice. _'Even though I don't remember writing them at all, those curly e's and L's can only be mine. So yes. I therefore happen to know a lot about all kids, even if I haven't mixed my genes with yours.'_

I shivered. 'That's disgusting.'

'_I know.'_

'Your genes better stay away from mine!'

'_Well.' _England coughed. _'I hope I have informed you enough, for now, and we'll probably continue on this subject during the next meeting, next week, when I've studied these notes some more.'_

'Yay.'

'_Bloody little fucker,' _I heard England mutter – and then he hang up on me_. _

I stared at the phone, _stunned_. Wow, that eyebrow-wielding bastard! He just swore at me and hang up! I didn't even get _my _turn to call him names. What a cheating asshole!

'Go fuck yourself!' I therefore yelled at the dead line, just for my own satisfaction, and put the horn back on the rest of its Picasso-esk body. After that, I looked around.

Something…

S-something _glittered_…

'Mother**FUCK**!' I instantly screamed when I saw Antonio standing right in front of me, with the biggest fucking axe he owned.

'There, Lovi!' he smiled, peppy as always, and lowered his _**killer weapon of death **_as I grasped my chest and tried to calm down. 'I sharpened my axe, like you said!~ Now, what do you want me to do with it?'

…

Well, you can say what you want about him, but living with Antonio certainly never was _boring_.


	11. Quote 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: A few chapters ago, some readers told me they had liked to read about Toni and Lovi getting caught in the smexy act by the kids. Well, in this chapter, it happens. But not quite. But it kind of does happen. And now I'm not making sense anymore. Hooray!_

_A/n2: __It's so very HOT in my country right now, you wouldn't believe. I'm sunburned all over and there's some water in my ear I just can't get out. Very, verrrrry annoying. But hooray for actually having a decent Summer this year!_ 8DDDDDD

_A/n3: __As a kid, I read everything from Annie M.G. Schmidt. She was a famous Dutch writer of children's literature, and you couldn't grow up without having read at least one of her books. Also, my parents always read her stories to me and my brothers before we went to sleep. It was wonderful! _^^_ Also, reading your kid bedtime stories is good for their development and it stimulates their imagination. Yay for funfacts!~_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 11:

**Children – never do what your mother tells you to do. Then everything should work out just fine.**  
_Annie M.G. Schmidt  
__(Dutch author)_

Well.

After Antonio had put that _**world-destructing thing**_ of his away in his Shed of Terror, Doom and Despair, we went to bed.

Because it was getting pretty late already, actually, and that's what you _do_ when it gets pretty late – you drag your ass off to bed.

…

Now for what stupid reason did I explain that bit, I'm sure no one cares, but oh well.

Anyway, Antonio and I were kind of tired. No fucking clue why – oh, wait, wait a minute, maybe we were so dead-tired because we all of a sudden had become parents of _**three fucking demon children**_ and therefore had just experienced the longest day EVER.

Yes. Maybe, just _maybe,_ _that_ was the reason. Just a wild guess.

In spite of all that, though, I was horny as fuck and wanted to fuck. Which rhymes, but not really, because they're the same words. Oh fuck it.

'Really?' Antonio said, looking up at me with drowsy, watery, "I'm-so-exhausted-I-could-die"-eyes. 'You want to have sex, Lovi?'

'Y-yes,' I mumbled, shuffling myself closer to his body and uneasily attempting to wrap my arms around his torso. 'You… you don't want to?'

'Well…'

...

Was that... _hesitation_ I heard in his voice?

...

Was... was that even _possible?_

'_Seriously_?' I stared at him like he wore a giant, purple wig with little elves in it. 'So you _don't _want to have sex? But this afternoon, you were all like "ohh, I need to take you so badly" and all that shit! You even said you'd show me just how much you love me this night!'

'Your memory concerning sappy things I say to you is impressive. You must really love me, don't you?' Antonio smiled.

'Fuck you.' I puffed my cheeks and let go of him, turning my back on him.

He laughed cheerlessly and patted my back. 'Lovino, come on… it's not that I don't want to… it's more like… I'm just so tired. I can barely keep my eyes open.'

I wanted to growl and continue acting like a spoiled little bitch for a bit longer, but then I realized my behavior maybe was a bit too childish, because let's be honest: we _did_ had one _exceptionally_ tiresome day today, so yeah. It was perfectly normal Antonio was too sleepy to have some lovely sex with me.

Still, I couldn't prevent my traitorous mouth from saying the following.

'Are we going to become like most couples with children, Antonio?'

'Hmmm?' Antonio questioningly hummed, embracing my back from behind.

I frowned and softly touched one of his hands, now resting on my stomach.

'Is… is our sexlife going to suffer, now that we have kids?'

I absentmindedly tugged a bit on the ring on his finger and held in my breath.

For a moment, Antonio was very quiet. He was so damn quiet, I almost feared that bastard had just fallen asleep, dammit, because he tended to do that in the middle of an important talk.

But then, I felt he was stirring behind me – and I could prevent gasping out too loudly by blocking my mouth when he suddenly started sucking the nape of my neck. He sucked, and licked, and _bit_, and simultaneously pulled me closer, until he and his arms and hands were pretty much all over me.

All I could do was whimper and shiver and think how wonderful this all felt.

'Ah, silly Lovi…' Antonio murmured, after pulling back from my – now reddened – neck, '…do you _really _think I would ever let that happen? Would _you _let that happen?'

'I-I don't know, dammit,' I stammered. I put a hand behind my neck to soothe the painful spot there, but Antonio wanted none of that and grabbed my wrist.

'Well _I _do know,' he muttered, before nipping at my neck again. He guided the hand he was holding to the back of his head, where he released it from his tight grip. As I instantly let my finger sink into his unruly, curly hair, I felt his both of his hands making their way to the front of my pants.

'What… what are you going to…' I shut up and squeezed my eyes shut when his hands undid my pants with short, impatient tugs, and I let out a moan when the same hands moments later disappeared in the same pants.

'I think you're perfectly aware of what I'm going to do,' Antonio breathed into my ear. 'I might not feel good enough to have sex with you, but I'd rather chop my own head off than failing to get you off. What a lousy husband that would make me…'

'O-oh _god_,' I gasped when one of his hand clutched the half-stiff cock in my underpants while the other hand made its way up my body, up to my chest, his fingers pushing and pulling a perked nipple as soon as they met one.

'Now…' Antonio gave a teasing nip to my auricle and started moving his hand up and down slowly, oh so slowly, _way too fucking slowly_, and all I could do was writhe and twist and moan his name over and over again.

'Antonio… o-oh god, A-Antonio… hmmm… m-more…'

To my surprise, I suddenly heard Antonio swallow – and I felt something hardening against my lower back. Then he pressed his lips against my neck and muttered something there.

'W-what?' I asked.

'I-I said…' Antonio gulped and let go of my nipple, only to slide his hand to my back, shoving it inside my pants – this time the _backside_ of my pants, '…I-I said that you're turning me on, Lovi… dammit, you really do turn me on…'

I let out a short, breathy laugh. 'Yeah?'

'Yes.' He sped up his hand movements – oh shit oh shit oh god oh god – and tugged down my pants from the back. He let go immediately after.

'W-w-what are – _ah_ – you doing now,' I grumbled. I let go of his hair and wondered for a short moment now what on earth I was supposed to do with that free hand and _fucking shit why did that damn hand of his slow down all of a sudden shit shit shitcakes shit_.

'Hm?' he said. 'I'm just loosening up my own pants, sweetie…'

His hand almost didn't slide up and down my erection anymore, so I calmed down a bit.

'You… _now_ you suddenly want to have sex?' I was able to ask him.

'Is… is that… okay with you?' Antonio pressed his (now naked) lower body against my own (also naked) lower body and _mmmm,_ how nice and hard it felt.

'O-of course it's fucking okay,' I mumbled, wrapping his other arm around me as well and pulling him flat against me so hard it actually hurt a bit, '…n-now go on right ahead, d-dammit… stopping halfway a handjob… y-you sure have some guts, bastard…'

His (slow, mean, awful, wonderful) hand gave my erection a teasting, delicious squeeze. 'So… I can take you, Lovi?'

I couldn't believe he asked me that.

I also couldn't believe what I was going to answer.

'Y-y-yes,' I said, barely audible.

'Ahhh?'

Antonio paused. In _everything he was doing_, he fucking paused.

'_What_!' I snarled, at once, getting really fed up with his slacking off.

Antonio, after one more second of silence, laughed softly and gave me a hug.

'Lovi, you sure like to bottom, don't you?'

…

…

Oh.

Fuck.

**\0o0/**

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck how did he find out how did he find out maybe I should have nagged at him to turn the fuck around and let me claim his ass but damn _why did the idea of him claiming mine seemed to so much more appealing dammit what was wrong with me __**why did Antonio ask me such an embarrassing question at such an important time and also DIDN'T HE ASK ME THAT SAME QUESTION SOME MONTHS GO TOO?**_

Now what in the world should I answer?

What? Should? I? Answer?

'U-um,' I said.

…

I answered um. Fucking UM.

My fantastic talk abilities blew me the fuck away.

Antonio had probably noticed the stiffening of my entire body, because he held on to me tightly and gave me kisses all over my neck, shoulders and back, pushing one of his legs in between mine - what was a sweet, but also incredible sexy thing to do.

'Ah, that's okay. Come on, don't act all embarrassed, sweetie, there's nothing wrong with having a preference.'

'Well!' I suddenly snapped, swiftly turning around – good thing he didn't hold my dick anymore – and shoved a finger in his face. 'I'd like to let you know I _also_ love to top! That's very good! It's nice! I enjoy topping you, hell, I could top you right now if I wanted to top you! I could pound your ass till it fucking falls off!'

He blinked, but then he smiled and nodded. Gently, he pushed my finger away.

'I know you can, my love.'

'Well… well _good_!' I wheezed.

'But most of the time, you prefer me on top.'

'I-I… no, I… um,' I said, looking and moving away – and oh god, when did my face get so hot? Also, when did I ended up sitting on his lap?

'Don't you?' Antonio only leaned closer towards me, the harder I tried to push him away.

'I-! Um… y-you… um.' I _still stuttered_, hesitatingly giving in to his warm, inviting body.

Antonio folded his arms around me again and nuzzled my warm and also very _red_ cheek affectionately.

'Don't be ashamed, sweetie. Don't assume it's stupid or shameful to like what you like.'

'I don't think it's shameful or stupid. It's… it's just embarrassing.'

'It's not.'

'It isn't?

'Not at all.'

I stared at him, somewhat touched and relieved by his words, and I thought about something to say.

'W-what about you, t-then?' I finally asked in a small voice. 'Do you have something you prefer? Top or b-bottom? And be honest with me, dammit!'

Because if he also preferred to bottom, we should think of something. Sh-shouldn't we? Doesn't it work that way?

'I actually love it either way.' Antonio managed to steal a kiss from me - mid-sentence. 'I really, really love to have sex with you, Lovi, regardless of who's bottoming and who's topping. I absolutely love being top and I absolutely love being bottom. As long as it's _you_, Lovi – because when it's you, then I _know_ I'm going to love every single second of it.'

…

Oh my.

'My _god_, Antonio.' I chuckled, feeling somewhat shy, yet happy about this whole… confession thing. 'That's… that's almost poetic, you romantic bastard.'

He smiled. 'I can be poetic.'

'Y-yes, you can,' I nodded, and carefully gripped his shoulders. I didn't really know what I wanted to say with that, or even what actually wanted to do, but… I hoped I somehow showed him I really, really liked him. Like love him. A-and stuff.

'Okay, now that we've both decided I'm one romantic, poetic piece of man, let's continue what you've started, hmm?'

Antonio rolled onto his back, never letting go of me, so that when he laid on his back, I was (still) sitting on his thighs – my knees somewhat crooked, my hands resting on his tummy.

'What are you up to?' I asked, leaning down, smirking.

'Well,' he started, running his arms down my body until they halted on my butt – of course they halted on my butt, 'why don't you ride me, Lovi?~'

I knew I had done wilder things with him. Things that made me cringe in shame and disgust and lust when I thought about them. And yet, regardless of that, I still felt my face flushing furiously as he suggested I should mount his cock.

But I liked that.

'I could do that,' I said in a low, and hopefully hot voice.

'You _should_ do that,' he corrected me with a playful wink.

'You like that, don't you? Having me bounce on top of you.'

Antonio's cheeks suddenly got a few shades redder.

'H-hey, you don't know how hot you look when you do that!'

'I look hot when I do that?' I said, seriously flattered.

Still blushing, he nodded.

'Super hot.'

I didn't really know how to respond to that – yes, it's something that occurs more often – so I just smiled at him as honestly as I know I was, and moved further up his legs, until his erection really was _just _underneath me.

As Antonio held his breath and as I started to rub my lower regions allllll over that delicious stiffness, I suddenly heard something. It wasn't really loud, but there sure was something going on somewhere in this House.

'You heard that?' I said, looking over my shoulder.

'Y-y-yes, that's my heart – it always thumps a lot louder that when you do these things,' Antonio said, sounding a bit embarrassed. 'Ah, I-I wish it would get used to you already, but it just can't get enough from you.'

I instantly looked back at Antonio, my eyes wide open.

'F-_fuck_, you're _cute_.'

He laughed softly – and grabbed my wrists, pulling me and my attention back to him. 'I believe this is the part where you say you love me, my love…'

'I love you,' I brusquely said, pressing a maybe too happy kiss to his lips, 'I really, really do love you so very mu—'

_Creeeeeaaaaaak._

…

…

Oh FUCK.

**\0o0/**

First, there was nothing.

Good, blissful nothing.

_But_.

But THEN…!

'P-Papa Lovi? Papa Toni?'

…

…

…

…oh please god, don't tell me one or _more_ of the demon children actually walked in on me and Antonio on the verge of having sex.

Please don't tell me they now saw I sat on him, butt-naked.

Please don't tell me they now watched my ass _hovering above Antonio's cock_.

PLEASE. DON'T.

But nothing told me nothing, goddammit, so I breathed out as quietly and non-shrilly as I could and shot an urgent 'WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO NOW' look at a just as horrified-looking Antonio below me.

'Pssst,' he eventually hissed to me, after one minute of utter awfulness, and he held one hand next to his mouth so that the kid – I think it was the dumb one – couldn't see us talking.

'Lovi, I don't think he has seen us yet…'

…well.

'Then why the fuck do you bother holding your hand up all secretly like that, dammit?' I hissed back.

'I don't know, it seemed to be a normal thing to do – anyway, Lovi, please get off me.' Antonio started to panicky pat me on the arms.

I growled. 'I want to, but… h-_how_?'

'Well, should I grab a ladder for you? So you can climb off me?'

…

What? Was that fucking _sarcasm _I heard coming from him?

'B-but I don't know where that damn kid is standing, dammit!' I nagged at the sassy asshole, '…and he also isn't saying anything anymore – can you see him?'

'No – your scrumptious body blocks my view.'

'You sure are cheeky tonight, aren't you.'

'Ahahaha.'

Dammit, we didn't have time for this. That's why I finally decided to take a risk – and swiftly got off Antonio, sat next to him and _immediately _pulled up the sheets as high as I could.

Antonio abruptly sat upright as well and did the very same thing and we then both stared at the empty spot in front of the opened door.

No kid.

…

…

Awkward.

'Was it all a dream?' Antonio mused, rubbing his jaw.

I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him like _fuck _it was a goddamn dream, that kid was probably thinking he had found an empty room and had left when we didn't answer his pleas for help, but then we heard the door next to our bedroom was also opened.

Again, that soft, nervous voice.

'Papa Lovi? Papa T-Toni?'

Antonio and I firstly looked at each other. A typical "we should probably do something" –look.

Then we hastily shot out of bed, put on our pajamas again – I always wondered why two extremely sexually active men like we were even _had_ PJ's in the first place, but they sure were convenient now – and stumbled out of the room.

**\0o0/**

When we got out of the bedroom, we noticed Dumb Kid right away – he was about to wobble uncomfortably to the next room. He held a pillow and left suspicious little wet footprints behind him.

We also saw he wasn't alone: walking a bit behind him was Moody Kid. She didn't say anything to him, she didn't even encourage or soothe him, but… well, she was there. And she avoided the suspicious wet footprints.

I wanted to consult Antonio and discuss with him what would be the next step we should consider, like any good parent or online multi-player would do. But Antonio was kind of a weird parent, and he didn't get online gaming at all, dammit, so of course, he just went with his instincts and _charged _towards the kids.

Both _**froze in fear**_, of course, when they saw him _**dashing**_ at them all insanely like that, but they relaxed as soon as they recognized Antonio.

'Papa Toni!' Dumb Kid exclaimed, tightening the grip around the pillow. Moody Kid still kept quiet – and she glared at us, naturally.

'Hey, hey, what's wrong?' Antonio crouched in front of Dumb Kid. 'Where you looking for us, kiddo?'

I caught up with Antonio and was just in time to observe Dumb Kid, trying to cover himself up with the pillow.

'You peed the bed,' I instantly realized.

The kid gasped and got red, shaking his head hysterically.

'No?' I huffed, putting my hands on my hips. 'But you've got pee-stains on your nightgown.'

He still shook his head. I was afraid his head might _fling off _if he kept tossing it around like that, so I sat down with Antonio as well and grabbed the kid's tiny arms.

'Okay, okay, you didn't do it – please stop moving your head like that, you'll send it in an orbit around the earth if it snaps off, dammit.'

'Ehehehehe,' Dumb Kid said, giggling.

'You peed the bed?' Antonio said, and sighed. But he smiled immediately after, ruffling the boys hair.

'Aww, that's not a big deal, kiddo!~ You see, Papa Lovi used to pee all over the place.'

'W-wha-! It was a goddamn SQUIRREL!' I snapped, my face red hot from embarrassment. 'Dammit, just how many times do I have to repeat that to you before you finally believe me!'

'Ahaha, Lovi, you lying little bedpisser, I'll never believe that silly story!~'

My mouth dropped. 'What the _fu_—'

'Anyway,' he carried on, successfully preventing me from saying the dreadful F-word, 'I want to let you know it's fine, kiddo. These kind of things happen when you're young! Don't you worry about it, okay?'

Dumb Kid didn't deny his wet and icky crime any longer, but he didn't confirm it either. He just looked at me and Antonio with those huge, _way_ too familiar eyes and grinned stupidly.

While Antonio instantly began to gush about how unbearably cute the dumb kid was, I decided to look for Moody Kid. I didn't have to look very long, because she was standing right next to me, her expression angry and huffy, as usual.

'And what about _you_?' I said to her, frowning. 'Did you pee the bed as well?'

'No!' she bit – and I chose to believe her, because she, indeed, wasn't covered with nasty stains. Which was odd, because the three of them were sleeping in one bed, so all three of them should be covered with…

…wait, did this mean that Creepy Kid was still sleeping?

Not having a care in the world?

In the _pee_?

…

That kid got creepier the longer I knew him, dammit.

'Antonio,' I said, turning myself back to my chirping husband and the kid that was supposed to be part of our offspring, 'I don't want to disturb you, but we have to remake a bed and wash some urine-soaked kids.'

Then I groaned and rubbed my head.

This was going to be a long night, wasn't it?


	12. Quote 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: I-I now have over 200 reviews! Oh my god! Thank you all so very much, I'm so grateful to all of you!  
__You know, I had doubts about this fic, thinking adding kids would probably be too much, but you proved me otherwise. _^^ _I'm very happy I decided to upload this fic, and I hope you and I will enjoy the rest of it as well!_

_A/n2: I had way too much fun writing out a very weird version of the fairytale "The Frog Prince" that'll appear in this chapter. Extra strange chapter, because of Lovi's magical storytelling skills. Huzzah!~  
Also, evil cliffhanger up ahead. Yeah. Sorry for that!_

_A/n3: Albert Einstein is probably one of the people who's quoted the most often and most… wrongfully, no doubt. So I really have no idea if he actually said the quotation for this chapter. But I sure liked it, so… there it is! _^^;;;  
_Anyway, Einstein was German, but the man traveled a lot and lived at lots of places, getting lots of different citizenships. That's pretty damn confusing, so I'll just call him German-born, since he was born in Germany. Ohhh, what logic! _XDDDD

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 12:

**If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairytales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairytales. **  
_Albert Einstein  
__(German-born theoretical physicist)_

So yeah, it was, like, past midnight when Antonio and I dumped three grubby, sleepy kids into our bathtub. The all responded totally different to this strange and unplanned happening.

For example, Dumb Kid thought it was fucking fantastic and instantly tried eating the bath foam. That kid has the strangest reflexes ever, I swear.

Creepy Kid was half asleep and his head kept almost crashing against the side of the bathtub. As I had thought, he hadn't woke up from getting peed all over, and _when _Antonio and I woke him up, he was all smiles, like 'cool, I'm covered in pee!', which was even more unsettling.

And, last but not least, Moody Kid. She hadn't been peed all over, but she still was kind of messy from playing (and pooping) in the garden, so we figured she might as well join her wacky brothers in bath.

Yeah.

Of course, she wanted _none of that_ and squished herself into a corner of the bathroom, completely naked, but determined as ever to give me and Antonio a hard time.

'Oh _come on_, do you have to make every little thing a major problem?' I complained, sitting on my knees in front of her, all wet and soggy because the boys made enough ruckus in bath to soak both me and Antonio.

'She takes after you, after all,' I heard Antonio say in the background, 'and she sure does like to _no_ you shouldn't eat that! No! Don't! Spit it out, kiddo! Spit it ou—no, leave the bottle alone… oh, hey, watch you head! Don't sleep in bath!'

I snorted in triumph when I saw him having trouble with Creepy Kid's antics. Ha! Serves him right. That'll teach him to blame my awesome genes for the flaws the girl had, dammit.

Too tired to start another stupid discussion with the girl, I groaned and looked at her as earnestly as I could.

'Look, I'll make another deal with you, okay?'

The girl just tilted her head to the side, but her eyes told me she was willing to listen.

'If you go into the tub with your brothers, I promise you I'll… um, I'll…'

…yes, _what, _Lovino? What would you promise Moody Kid? She expected something good now, and not something half-assed, so you better come up with something pretty damn interesting!

'I'll tell you a cool bedtime story,' I finally said.

Then I wanted to moan and sigh in frustration, because no way she would be interested in one of my dumb stories. Besides, if she really did take after me, she didn't give a fuck about getting a stupid bedtime story.

…still, when I looked up, I saw she wobbled towards the bathtub, tugged on Antonio's cloths just as much until he put her into the tub, and instantly turned to face me, her eyes intense, but barely hiding her internal enthusiasm. Dumb Kid gave me that same happy look, only he was much more open about it – since he was smiling and all.

'Oh?' I stupidly said.

Antonio laughed and squeezed into a sponge over the head of Creepy Kid, who now had actually fallen asleep again, his head plastered to the side of the tub.

'Looks like they think you're a good storyteller, Lovi!~'

I quickly coughed and grinned, crawling over to the tub. 'Well _of course _they think I'm a good storyteller, because I AM a good storyteller. No _duh_.'

'That's great, sweetie.' Antonio looked at me and I'll be damned if his dreamy gaze wasn't loving enough to turn all the evil on earth into cute little ladybugs. 'See? You're good at this parenting stuff. You're a wonderful dad.'

'Y-you're… you're doing a pretty good job, too, you know,' I muttered, feeling all tingly and proud because of the compliment, and grabbed a washcloth.

'That's because we have the cutest kids _ever_. Don't you agree?~' Antonio gave me a soft bump with his shoulder, looking at me, waiting.

Waiting for what? I was confused and wanted to ask him what the fuck the kids' cuteness had to do with our parenting skills, but then I realized we probably shouldn't focus too much on each other when we were with the kids, because that would make them feel left out.

Nothing's worse than feeling left out.

'Yes,' I responded, nodding, 'they sure are cute. Very cute!'

Dumb and Moody Kid got tiny blushes on their plump little cheeks and _fuck _if that wasn't the most adorable thing I had seem from them this evening.

I took a quick glimpse to the side and Antonio smiled at me.

I didn't know what else I could do except for sheepishly beam a small smile back, before giving all of my attention to the kids again.

Ahh, this ambiance. I wasn't really familiar with it, but I liked it. I liked this ambiance… yes, I liked it.

**\0o0/**

'Okay,' Antonio then suddenly said, carefully lifting Dumb Kid out of the tub, 'will you wash the girl, Lovi? Then I'll get the boys dressed.'

…

…

And _away _the happy, wonderful feeling of bliss was.

'Say _what_?' I stammered, looking up at him.

Antonio – now pulling Creepy Kid out of the bath a lot less carefully than Dumb Kid, I should scold him for that later – blinked his eyes, before narrowing them, _smirking_.

'Lovino, don't tell me you're afraid to touch her.'

'I am _not _afraid to touch her, dammit!' I nagged, although my red face probably told him otherwise. 'I'm just… I don't fucking know what to do! It's a _girl_! And she's _naked_!'

'And she's your _daughter_.' Antonio then chuckled and sounded happy and overjoyed, like he had waited ages to be able to say that. 'Ahh, just wash her, Lovi, she doesn't have cooties or something.'

'I _know _she doesn't have cooties!'

'Then wash her.' He started drying off the boys.

'Why don't _you _wash her?'

'Lovi…' Antonio sighed. Then he fired a very sad, puppy-esk look my way.

_**BOOM**_**, head-shot! It's super effective! **

I frowned and pursed my lips. 'Oh no, don't give me that look. Don't give me that… _Ugh_. Fine. Fine, I'll wash her, dammit.'

Fucking cute son of a bitch.

I stretched out my arms and mechanically pushed the washcloth against Moody Kid's face. She frowned, but allowed it begrudgingly. So I carried on washing her, and that went pretty well, I must say, and then I suddenly noticed she was doing her very best to keep her long and wavy hair out of the water. I saw she had it rough – well, it was pretty thick and heavy-looking hair – so I looked around me, to see if I could find something to help her out.

Then I saw Antonio's butt.

I mean – Antonio, who happened to be right behind me, with his back faced my way.

'Antonio, do you have some kind of… elastic or something?' I asked him, reaching out to smack his butt. 'You know, that girls use to tame their hair?'

'Hmmm?' Antonio turned around, rubbing his butt. 'Why? Are you going to play hairdresser with her? That's so cute!~'

'Wha—NO!' I snapped (although I had to admit I could work some magic on those wonderful locks of brown hair) at him. 'Look at her, dammit, she can't keep her hair out of the water! If you don't have a hairband or something, it'll get wet! And I don't want her to go to sleep with wet hair, because she could catch a cold.'

Antonio listened to me and nodded thoughtfully. 'I might have something… wait a minute.'

He opened a cabin that hang on the wall and, after rummaging about, he pulled out a long, but slightly weathered red ribbon.

'Here you go, you can use this!'

'Thanks,' I said, and bound the girl's hair into a huge bun. While the girl muffled a relieved sigh, I studied the ribbon a bit better.

'This ribbon, it was yours, wasn't it?'

'Yes, when I had still long hair, I used that ribbon all the time.' Antonio chuckled. 'It's no use going to war with your hair dancing all over the place… that's what you always said, remember?'

I blinked. An almost forgotten conversation of the past suddenly bubbled up inside of me.

'_Hey, you… you bastard! Don't go fighting! Stay here! They'll kill you!'_

'_Ah, I'm sorry, Roma, but I have to go. I can't leave the dirty work to my people, you know? I have to fight with them!'_

'_B-but you'll die!'_

'…_ah?'_

'_Um… that is… if you keep your hair like that, dammit! You'll fucking die! Tie it back!'_

'_But I don't have anything to—'_

'_Use this, dammit!'_

'_Ah, Roma! You shouldn't tear up your clothes like that!'_

'_S-shut up! It's no big deal! Just sit down, asshole, I'll… I'll fucking fix it for you…'_

…

I swallowed.

'Y-yes, I remember.'

**\0o0/**

When I was young, I remember Antonio always went to war with his unruly hair just… fluttering away. I already liked Antonio a whole lot more than I did when I had just met him – I think, in a way, you could say I was already beginning to develop some frail, vulnerable feelings of love for him that could still be confused with father-son –feelings.

I worried about Antonio a lot. I knew he had a hard time and I felt like I was losing him, bit by bit, each and every time he went out to fight… oh, colonies that had started to rebel, disgruntled Spaniards, other people that were angry with him for some reason…

I was losing him. I was losing the only person that, perhaps, could be able to really like me for the person that I was. That's because he always had this bone-chilling, insane look in his eyes when he finally came back. Sure, if you talked into him long enough right after his return, the "old" Antonio came back again, but… that didn't happen all that much. Because the servants weren't always willing to talk to him… and because I was just way too fucking _scared _of him whenever he had that look. I didn't dare to say anything to him, I just wanted to flee under my bed and hope he'd wake me up the next morning like nothing noteworthy had happened the day before.

Of course, this was fucking cowardly of me. I knew that, and I knew I had to think of another way to make sure Antonio never forgot his true, kinder self – so I tore the red ribbon from my dress and nagged at Antonio – when he was back in his normal state of mind – to at least tie his hair back if he went to war, because what if the enemy would tug his hair?

Antonio had laughed and, from that moment on, he'd always let me tie his hair back before leaving the House to fight some worthless war.

…

Now, I-I didn't know if it was really that helpful. But at least I had the feeling I had done my best to do something useful for him.

After most wars were fought, and lost, Antonio had no other choice but becoming more amiable and mellow. So he cut his hair. When I came visiting him every now and then, he sometimes told me how silly it actually had been, to have long hair while going to war, and I could only nod and mutter yet another mean word to him, because I fucking hated him for making me feel this weird whenever I was with him these days.

France and Prussia complained after he had cut his hair: why would he do that, it was such a waste, he had such nice hair!

Lots of nations agreed with them, but not me. Short hair suited Antonio way better.

Just like mental stability.

**\0o0/**

'…and you're done,' I heard myself say, and only when I had heard myself say that, I finally realized I had washed and even clothed Moody Kid, all while thinking about the past.

'You're done,' I repeated, for some stupid reason, and furrowed my brows. Dammit, I should pay more attention to dressing her – her nightgown was inside-out!

I considered correcting that, but Antonio, who had apparently seen a bit of my distant gaze during Moody Kid's bath time, gently put a hand on my shoulders and shook his head.

'She's not bothered by it, Lovino. It's okay.'

'Oh,' I said. 'And the boys?'

'They're waiting for us outside the bathroom. Shall we go?'

'Okay.'

And we went.

**\0o0/**

I think Antonio wanted to talk with me some more about the stuff that was said and thought in the bathroom. I thought that, because Antonio was very eager to put the kids in bed and sashay off with me: he had remade the bed the kids slept in quicker than a speed racer would race. On speed. On the moon.

…

Whatever – he just was… very, very quick! Yeah!

Anyway, of course, I was happy he had become a lot more open about his past, now that we had been together for such a long time, but come on – first things first, or so I told him, and he just needed to wait until I had told the kids a bedtime story.

'Ah, a bedtime story? You're going to tell one of them again?' His eyes became almost as big and sparkly as those of the kids and he nodded obediently. 'Okay! I'll gladly listen to that! You're such a wonderful storyteller, after all!'

'It's not for _you_,' I pointed out, as I watched him sit down on the chair next to the bed all happily and shit – but just went with the flow in the end anyway, because I felt kind of complimented with his willingness to observe me telling the three demon children a bedtime story.

As soon as it had become quiet in the bedroom, Moody, Creepy and Dumb Kid all looked at me in silent anticipation. Oh, and so did Antonio, who now looked more like their older brother than their parent. It was kind of cute though.

I scraped my throat and sat down on the bed, coughed a few more times – just because I could and because it would make me look like I was one hell of an awesome man, which I _was_ – and began to tell the story.

The wonderful, magical story of the frog prince.

**\0o0/**

'Okay,' I started. 'Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away from here, there lived a spoiled little bitchy princess.'

Antonio's face instantly fell and he clacked his tongue warningly. 'Lovino…'

I looked at him like "well _stop me _if you dare", but he didn't dare, so I just continued my awesome story.

'That spoiled little bitchy princess had everything in the world. Everything she wanted – she'd get. That's because her daddy was a rich old king that didn't have anything better to do with his truckloads of gold than to spoil his egoistical little princess rotten with it. He could, you know, have used that gold to help the country he reigned over, or to give it to the poor people, but no – no, the king thought it would be much better to just give his daughter everything her annoying little heart wanted. The king also had another daughter, a sweet little doormat princess, but nobody gave a crap about her anyway, so just ignore her for now.'

The kids all stared at me like I was telling them the shortest route to the nearest candy shop and _fuck_, I loved it.

'One day, the bitchy princess went to her snoozing dad, woke him up and demanded a golden ball. Why she wanted a golden ball, of all things? Well, that's actually a secret, but I'll tell you anyway – the stupid girl next door had received a _silver _ball from her parents and just couldn't stop rubbing the thing in the bitchy princess' face. So the bitchy princess at one point just had enough of that shit and went straight to daddy, and of course, she wanted to get something better than a lousy silver ball – hence why the ball had to be golden.'

'Does the story really goes like that?' Antonio carefully asked.

'_Yes_ it _does_,' I defensively answered.

Antonio frowned, but didn't say anything anymore.

'Anyway,' I continued, 'naturally, the king was more than willing to give the bitchy princess what she wanted – and so, not even ten minutes later, she was running around the big-ass back garden with a beautiful golden ball, throwing it up in the air and catching it when it came down again. You'd expect she probably had a hard time tossing that heavy thing up in the air the entire time, but fear not, for the girl apparently was super strong and could toss all she wanted with it, without getting tired.'

'Ohh,' Dumb Kid said while drooling, mesmerized.

'_Yes _ohh,' I nodded with a straight face, 'but of course, running around the garden and doing stupid crap with a ball like some sort of insane dipshit just _asks _for trouble, and then all of a sudden, **Murphy's** **Law** attacked, and the ball fell into the big pond. That's right, there was a pond, too. Hell, that king had so much gold, of _course _he could get himself a smelly pond. He could even get two, if he had wanted to. But he hadn't wanted to.'

I paused, just for the hell of it. It was amusing how much Antonio's face was twisting between "what a great story" and "my god, I should stop him" and "Lovi looks so criminally good, I want to suck his dick later".

…

Ahem.

'The bitchy princess stared at the pond that had just ate her ball and she focused on her hate-beams, hidden inside her eyes – but it was no use, the pond didn't give a fuck if the princess hated it or not. Then she considered crying, because maybe the pond would either feel sorry for her, or just wanted her to shut the hell up and would therefore return the ball. But she wasn't the crying kind of girl. Finally, the girl decided it would be much easier to go back to the king and demand a new golden ball, maybe an even better one, without tiny scratches on it. But _then_!'

Moody Kid's mouth fell open and she leaned in my direction, just like her brothers did.

'A _frog _came out of the pond!' I said – needlessly dramatic.

'Ohh,' Dumb Kid said again.

'The frog wasn't an ordinary frog – it could talk! But because the king frequently used the pond to dump weird, radioactive shit in it, the bitchy princess wasn't even surprised to find out it could talk to her and heard him out. Did you know what he told her?'

The three kids shook their heads.

'Please let the frog be normal, please let the frog be normal…' I heard Antonio mutter.

…

Of course _not_.

I smirked and returned to the story.

'The frog stood up on its rear legs and smiled at the princess all happy and princely and stuff:

"What up, lill' missy? Why the tears, yo? Can I do something for ya?"

He was a streetwise gangster frog, you know. The pond was his _hood_.'

...

Oh my god, Antonio's _face_. It was fucking _priceless._

Grinning, I continued.

'And the princess was like:

"Well _yeah _you can do something for me, stinky ugly frog – get me my golden ball back!"

"Sure thing," the frog said, flashing his gang sign, "but ya'll need to give me somethin' in return for it."

"What do you want then?" the princess asked, cautiously. "Money? Gold? My little sister? Because you can have all of them, you know, no problem."

"Naah, ain't want all that shit," the frog said, juggling with his foul grammar. "I want completely other shit. Like, I wanna have yo friendship, girly, And maybe even yo love."

The bitchy princess was like "_hell no_" but of course, she didn't tell him that. She wanted her ball back, first. So she lied to the frog and repeated that he could get whatever the fuck he want from her.

"Yea?" the frog said, adjusting his little Yankee –cap. "You sure about that, lill' lady? 'Cause I'll need to, y'know, sit next to ya when you're gonna eat yo grub."

"That's fine by me," the princess snorted.

"And eat of yo plate."

"Okay."

"And drink from yo booze."

"I don't drink boo—"

"And I wanna sleep in yo bed, too."

The face of the bitchy princess went pale from disgust. "Ewww, you disgusting creep!"

"It's yo choice, sweet stuff – take it or leave it."

"OKAY THEN," the princess sighed, already regretting her decision, "fine, I'll let you do all of that – just give me my ball back!"

"Best decision of yo thug life. Be back in a flash, doll," the frog promised and winked at her – and dove back into the pond.'

'You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you,' Antonio dryly remarked, when I was thinking about how to fill in the next part of the story.

Luckily, the kids were a lot more fired up about the story. Creepy Kid and Dumb Kid just kept on grinning and chanting 'froggy, froggy!' while Moody Kid turned her head away and made a face like "hmpf like hell I'm enjoying this stupid story". But she made sure to watch me from the corner of her eyes, so she could pay attention again as soon as I'd continue.

Which I did, right now.


	13. Quote 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Upcoming Wednesday, I'm having my driving exam. I'm not sure I said that right. Well, let's put it like this: this Wednesday, I'm going to try to get my driver's license. Yes, that's right, I still haven't got one. _^^;;; _Embarrassing, right?  
__Anyway, please wish me lots of luck, because man, I will need it. It's not that I'm a bad driver, it's more like I get nervous as fuck when there's a man sitting next to me, noting everything I do, while I'm just sitting there and sweating my ass off.  
__Oh! I'm so scared… Please please please let me get my driver's license in one try! I'm too old for joyriding (just kidding – no way on earth I'd ever drive around without a driver's license, I'm way too chicken for that, LOL)…_

_A/n2: Maybe some of you remember that A/n I wrote a long time ago. You know, that one note that told you about the Dutch Prince Friso's accident? That he had been in an avalanche which left him in a comatose state of mind (and I sure hope I'm saying this right)?  
__He died this week. He was only 44 years old, and probably one of the coolest princes we had here in the Netherlands. He leaves behind a lot of people that loved him , like his brothers – and the King – and a wife, plus their young daughters.  
__It's so sad. Of course, we all pretty much knew he'd never wake up after his accident, but it's still a terrible loss.  
__I'm not sure how to feel about it. I mean, I didn't know the man. I just hope he'll be at peace now – and it would be good if his loved ones could finally move on now as well._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 13:

**The way I wrestle with five-year-olds makes me think if I ever were to be attacked by a pack of midgets, I'd be OK.**  
_Jarod Kintz  
__(American author)_

'The bitchy princess started praying when the frog was away – she prayed he'd drown and leave her the hell alone. Yes, she was a mean little princess. But, fortunately enough – for the frog – he came back, safe and sound, and he had the golden ball with him.

"Yo, look what the F-dog dug up from the pond, missy – a golden thingamajig."

"Why didn't you drown?" the princess pouted, snatching the ball away from him.

The frog opened his slimy yap to answer her, but then the princess suddenly sprinted away, right to the entrance of her daddy's castle, and he could hear her evil cackling as she slammed the door shut.

"_**Mhuhahahahahahaaa, PSYCH, sucker!**_"

The frog was like "well shit, ho tricked me" _but…_ he didn't give up. He just hopped to the door and body-slammed it a few times, until the king, whose servants were apparently striking at the moment, opened the door.

"Yo dawg," the frog greeted the king with two raised froggy fingers. "Peace. Where's yo daughter at? She promised me somethin'."

"Did she?" the king said, faintly wondering if he drank too much liquor again.

The frog explained everything to the king, who went straight to his daughter and told her to do what she promised the frog. Because, for some shady reason, he chose _that_ exact moment to discover his daughter was a spoiler little bitch – and _**she**_ was the one to blame. _He_ wasn't. Nooo, the king, her _father_, who _always gave her everything_, wasn't. Don't be ridiculous.

So to teach her a lesson, he commanded her to get out of her room, right _now_, before he'd bulldoze her pink door flat, so she could keep her promise.

The spoiled princess wasn't used to her father growing a fucking spine like that, so she came out of her room, dazzled, and went to the dining room.

And there he was, sitting next to her plate, waving and smiling slyly at her.

"Yo princess, how _yo_ doin'?"

"Crap," the princess answered, but went and sit down anyway.'

Antonio glanced at the clock, I noticed, and he gave me a frowny look.

'Lovi, it's getting late, you know.'

Then he pointed to the kids, who were, indeed, starting to doze off. I couldn't even decide if Dumb Kid was asleep or awake anymore.

'Alright, alright!' I huffed. 'I'll just skip the dining part and go straight to the bedscene. The kids will love that part.'

Antonio grimaced. 'That… that sounds so _wrong_.'

I pretended I didn't hear him and carried on.

'So anyway, begrudgingly, the bitchy princess shared her food and drink with the frog, and she even took the little slimy beast with her to her bedroom. You should have seen the look of sheer agony and disgust when he flopped down on her pillow.

"Yuck! You're making my pillow dirty, you freak! It's all green and stuff! Gross, it's like snot!"

"Yea whatever – it's dreamtime for this lill' man, yo," the frog effectively ignored her, and folded his arms back his head, smiling delightedly.

"Oh no you _didn't_!" the bitchy princess wagged her finger at him very unladylike and dashed forwards, made a high-jump kick, and launched him right off the pillow! He went _splat _against the wall!'

'Wooooooooooow!' Creepy Kid cheered.

'Eww…' Moody Kid mumbled.

'But then!' I mystically said. 'As soon as the frog had hit the wall – and smacked down on the floor – he suddenly was overcome with white smoke and twinkling glitter… and then, when the air had cleared up again, there was a handsome prince standing in the princess' bedroom!

"Hello, my dear, nameless princess."

And he had lost his accent, too!

"Who are you?" the bitchy and _very _confused princess asked him.

"I'm a prince from a kingdom far away from here. An evil witch changed me into a foul amphibian, for she was annoyed by my lack of swag."

"So she changed you into a _frog_?"

"Yes, I found that pretty unusual as well. Just like the fact you had to throw me against a wall in order to break the spell. I mean, I'd much rather have had a kiss instead. However!" He took a few steps into her direction and beamed a white, pearly smile at her. "You still managed to break the spell, so thank you very much."

"You're welcome," the princess said. "Now where's my reward?"

"Well, I'd love to marry you," the prince humbly requested.

The princess was disappointed. "I said reward – not punishment."

"But—"

"And why do you want to marry me? It makes no sense, you don't even know my name!"

"Yes, well—"

"And I said and did horrible stuff to you!"

"Still, I…"

"I _threw you against the wall_!"

"But I love you anyway!" the prince said. "So marry me, nameless princess, and have a child with me that'll change into an ogre at night when it gets older!"

But the princess was pretty emancipated and rejected the prince, who, instead, went for the younger sister. She wasn't really eager to marry him either, but she was a doormat, so she accepted his desperate proposal – while crying – and went with him to his magical kingdom.

There, they miraculously managed to fall in love with each other anyway thanks to the Stockholm Syndrome, so they all lived a happily ever after – the bitchy princess with her golden ball, and the doormat princess with her shallow husband. The end.'

**\0o0/**

Creepy Kid burst out in enthusiastic cheering and clapping, Moody Kid frowned a bit less angrily and Dumb Kid, who, indeed, had fallen asleep, was now sucking his pinky and ring finger.

'I feel violated,' Antonio muttered, sighing deeply as he got up from the bed.

'Now,' I said, looking at the kids – especially at Moody Kid – intensively, 'what have we learned from this little story?'

'Um,' Moody Kid started, but I didn't let her finish.

'Men are _**beasts**_, and you should stay _**away**_ from them. Until you're old and wrinkly. _Then_ we'll see.'

She just blinked her eyes drowsily, not knowing how to respond.

Antonio chuckled and put his hands on my shoulders. 'Getting protective, aren't we, Lovi?~'

'_No_ I'm not! I'm just stating the obvious! Men _are_ beasts!' I grumpily said, also getting up. 'Besides, if one or two of the boys turn out to be gay, this warning goes for them as well. You two knuckleheads hear that?'

But the two knuckleheads were not listening anymore – they had nodded off. Moody Kid wasn't sleeping yet, but she did have her eyes closed. So when I shot a stern glance into the demon children's direction, it was squished _flat _against the wall, just like the frog prince, for there was nobody to actually see it.

'Hey! Don't fall asleep during my important speeches!' I said, frowning. What did this mean – were my speeches too hard for them to understand yet, or was I just acting really, _really_ boorish?

Then I felt Antonio put a hand against my back and softly pushed me towards the door.

'Let's go to bed, Lovi. Come on.'

I looked at him. Antonio had a very tired expression, like he had had this entire night already. Poor guy was probably so deadly exhausted, he'd drop down on the floor instantly if I told him it was okay to take a nap on the ground, right here, right now.

…

…I don't know why the fuck I would ever tell him that, but I was looking for a comparison, dammit, so don't sweat it.

Finally, I looked at the kids, snoring away. Only after that, I was able to smile a bit and nod.

'Alright then – let's go to sleep, Antonio.'

**\0o0/**

No, we didn't have sex when we returned to our bedroom, nor did we have a good, intimate talk about Antonio's past.

…

I mean, come on, we were so fucking _tired_, it wasn't even funny anymore! You really think we'd still be able to have mind-blowing good sex and chat like we've got tons of energy left? We're _countries_, for god's sake – not superheroes!

So yeah, as soon as our heads hit the pillow, we fell asleep, and we _stayed _asleep, until we were woken up the very next day – _way too fucking _early – by the sound of laughing and shouting children.

…

…

Nngh. I don't know if I could get used to this.

**\0o0/**

Behold – the very strange conversation me and Antonio had, shortly after the annoying noises outside of our bedroom had brutally woke us up:

'Lovi?'

'Hmn.'

'The kids are awake.'

'That's the rumor.'

'I think they've just taken down one of the paintings.'

'Then you should probably go out of bed and scold them.'

'Why me? I think _you _should go out of bed and scold them.'

'They are _your _kids – you should scold them, dammit.'

'They are yours, too!'

'Nnnnope.'

'Nope?'

'They are completely, entirely _yours_, this early in the morning.'

'But I don't want them to be completely and entirely mine this early in the morning…'

'Well, then I guess they're orphans for now.'

Silence, except for the shouting and shrieking outside the room.

Then Antonio started to giggle, scooting closer to me and wrapping his arms around me.

'You're evil, Lovi…'

'Am _not_,' I muttered, instantly nuzzling his chest, the minute he pressed me against him, 'I'm just… sleepy.'

'Hm-hm…' He put a hand on my head, caressing me softly. 'We should probably get out of bed soon, sweetie.'

'Yeah yeah…' I yawned, but refused to move away from him – or to let him move away from me.

'We have lots of things to do today,' Antonio continued.

I groaned.

'Like…um…' I could hear Antonio's brain, trying hard to get into action and _think_, as he absentmindedly ran his hand up and down my back, '…ah, we should get to your doctor, first. And then, we should buy more kid stuff, like you said. Toys and all.'

'Toys and all…' I mumbled, hugging him tightly. 'But I don't need toys as long as I have you…'

'I-I was talking about the kids, Lovino,' Antonio said – and heh, I just knew he was blushing.

'I know you were talking about the kids. I just wanted to let you know_ I_ don't need any toys, because I have you.'

I "accidentally" pushed my knee into his crotch. Whoopsy daisy, look at that.

'L-Lovi…' He started to shake and shiver a little bit. Antonio always started to shake and shiver a little bit when he was getting aroused and didn't want to let me know.

'What?' I innocently said, looking up to him and feeling more than proud to notice how red and warm his face had become, all of a sudden.

'Ohh? What's with the flushed face, Antonio?'

'Are you trying to sex me up?' He sounded excited, but irritated as well. 'Lovino, our offspring is running around the corridor, making a huge mess and yelling all kinds of things, and you want to make love?'

'Screw making love – I want to _fuck_.'

I abruptly sat up and managed to harshly press a completely surprised Antonio against the mattress, sitting down on his thighs heavily. Antonio stared at me bewilderedly as I leaned down, smirking, until my lips were close to his – also very red – ear.

'…and I want to fuck _you_, to be precisely.'

And then I gave a lick to his earlobe, because _why the hell not_.

'L-L-Lovino…' Antonio moaned and grasped my shoulders, half-heartedly trying to push me off him.

'You know what,' I carried on in a husky voice, lowering myself on top of him, 'I think I'm going to do it, too. I'm going to fuck you and you'll gasp for more and you'll totally _love_ it.'

He gave me this dazed, mesmerized look, before he eventually nodded, smiling ever so slightly.

…

…

F-fucking _adorable_, dammit.

'A-alright,' I quickly said, doing the best I could to avoid getting too endeared by Antonio's irresistible cuteness, 'now, when was the last time I gave you a decent blowjob?'

'Um,' Antonio muttered, avoiding my eyes.

'That's right – I don't know, either.' I puffed my cheeks in annoyance. 'You can _ask _me to suck you off every once in a while, you know. I don't mind doing that. Heck, I love sucking you off. Not a big fan of your cum, but your dick's pretty much perfect. It tastes like sex. I _like_ sex.'

Antonio blinked his foggy eyes at me. 'You're… ah, you're pretty shameless this morning, my love…'

'You can thank me for that later.' I moved myself around, my (still clad) ass facing his… face, just to taunt him, and started pulling down his pants. Or up, seen from my point of view.

Behind me, I could hear Antonio laugh a bit. 'Ah, you sure are sexy when you're taking the initiative, Lovi…'

I smiled, feeling better and more confident by the passing second. 'You should see me when I'm _in_ you.'

'Yes, you – mnnhn – you… look so attractive and hot when you're in me, too…'

'R-right?' I swallowed. His voice had a more lustful tone than a minute ago. It turned me on like there was no tomorrow.

I wanted to focus on his pants again and _rip_ them off his body as soon as possible, but then, I felt Antonio was starting to tug on _my_ pants as well. I gasped – I could feel his hand, sneaking down my back, giving soft but demanding jerks on the fabric of my pants.

'What are you doing?' I hastily asked, looking over my shoulder and trying _really_ hard to hide my blushing face from him. 'For your information, Antonio – _I'm_ the one in charge now, dammit. Surrender to my dominating hotness already!'

'Lovino,' Antonio slowly said, giving me a weird, but horny look and evilly ignoring what I just said, 'it's also been a while since the last time I sucked _you _off, right?'

'Yeah?' I scowled, sitting upright. 'S-so what? You can suck me off some other time. It's not a big deal.'

'Well, I… um, I have an idea. Please hear me out, okay?' Antonio stopped tugging on my pants, but his hand – and eyes – kept lingering on my butt anyway. Which was fine by me, because I knew I was pretty. Handsome, I mean. Pretty handsome. Yeah.

Still, I narrowed my eyes. 'What _kind_ of idea?'

Antonio finally managed to tear his gaze off my ass and looked at me again, his face flushed and embarrassed, but also very determined.

'Lovi, do you remember that one time, when we tried to… umm…'

'When we tried to what?'

'…does… does the number 69 ring a bell?'

…

…

YES IT DID.

Oh god. I felt my lips were tightening themselves into a thin line and I felt shivers going up and down my spine as I remembered that… that weird, _oh so very weird _night, during our honeymoon.

We had actually wanted to do that infamous 69-position everybody always gets so tense and aroused (shut up, you know it's true) about. I'd suck Antonio off, and he, at the same time, would suck me off, and it would be good and sensual and kinky and strange and whatever, we just wanted to try it out, dammit, so we did.

Try, I mean.

Because in the end, we couldn't do it.

…

THAT'S RIGHT, ME AND ANTONIO ACTUALLY _FAILED_ AT DOING A CERTAIN SEX-POSITION.

No way I was ever going to tell anybody about that failure. Man, I felt so ashamed, it wasn't even funny.

It's just… well.

It was so goddamn stupid and weird, we just couldn't stop cracking up during our attempts. I mean, I literally smacked my cock in Antonio's face. Multiple times. And Antonio constantly complained he didn't know what to do or where to look at when I hang above him like that. And Antonio _just wouldn't get hard_, because he was too occupied with _chuckling_ about how utterly _weird _all of this was.

Of course, I shouldn't think too dramatically about all this, right? Because we both at least had a good laugh about it and because Antonio apparently hadn't done a position like this before, either.

WRONG.

HE HAD DONE IT BEFORE.

AND A _LOT_, TOO!

'But I've never done it with somebody I genuinely _loved_ before, Lovino. And… ah, it's kind of silly!~ And not romantic or sexy at all,' he bluntly explained to me later, when I had asked him why he couldn't do it with me. 'Besides, you have a totally different body shape than most of my former bedpartners had, Lovi. You're a lot more squishy and softer, too!~'

'Are you saying that I'm FAT,' I had yelped in shock, and that was the last time we'd talk or even think about the evil number 69. I felt frustrated, but I didn't ask him to give it another go anymore. And Antonio, who apparently never was a huge fan of this particular sex-position, didn't talk about it either.

But now, it actually was _Antonio_ who suggested we should try it out again.

…

Maybe… maybe that was a good sign?

'S-so…' I mumbled, gulping, but putting on a serious face right after, '…w-we should try it out again, you say?'

Antonio nodded. He looked serious about it as well. His fingers still poked at my pants.

'Won't we just burst into laughter again, though?' I frowned.

'No,' Antonio decidedly said. 'It isn't funny anymore.'

'Hell no – it's fucking nerve-wrecking! Not to mention self-esteem-wrecking. You… um…' I rubbed my neck and swallowed again, '…you want to do that _now_?'

Antonio opened his mouth to answer – and then we suddenly heard the sound of a hard _thud _outside the bedroom, followed by loud and almost _suffocating_ crying.

**\0o0/**

'Someone fell,' Antonio said, snapping his head up.

'Someone fell _hard_,' I added, getting off him.

'Ah, no, that's not possible, is it?' Antonio said, laughing a bit. 'The corridor is full of soft carpets of the best quality! There's no way one of the kids could have fallen down hard.'

'Unless…' I felt my eyes growing, '…they fell off the stairs.'

'Yes, in that case, they'd…'

Antonio all of a sudden shut up and gave me a panicked stare.

I stared back at him, looking just as horrified, and immediately jumped off the bed, kicking open the door.

'I'll be with you in a sec!' I heard Antonio – who still needed to pull his pants back up, I guess – yell behind me, and then I dashed right through the (completely _**devastated, oh my GOD**_) corridor, only stopping when I saw Creepy and Dumb Kid, silently looking down the stairs.

'You two!' I gasped, getting down on my knees and shaking Creepy Kid back and forth anxiously. 'Where's… where's the third? The girl? Your little sister – where is she?'

He didn't have to answer me, for Moody Kid beat him to it.

'H-huuu… ah-huuuuu…'

…

It sounded like there was a little wolf howling on the stairs, to be honest, and I'll even be honest enough to admit I had to hold back my laughter when I heard her sort of funny way of crying (sorry, I'm so sorry, but _huuuuu?_). However, I instantly reverted back to the worried, serious daddy-person I was trying to pull off here when Moody Kid – thankfully she had only fell halfway the stairs – noticed me and decided to give the entire House a demonstration of her immensely powerful vocal cords.

'Uhhh... uhhh… bwhaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA_AAAAAAAAAAAA__**AAAAAAAAAAA**_...hhhhh…_**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!'**_

Holy _fuck_, that SOUND!

I still just couldn't STAND THAT AWFUL SOUND!

'_Shit_!' I cursed, covering my ears and cowering in horror.

The boys made a fearful face as well and mimicked me, blocking their ears and…

…repeating me.

'Shis!'

'Shiff!'

…

Well that wasn't very good.

If Antonio found out, ohhhhhh…

Wait, speaking of Antonio, where was he? What was taking him so long, dammit?

'Here I am!' Antonio's voice suddenly hollered through the big corridor, as if he had heard my thoughts, and his heroic shouting was followed up by some very quick footsteps. He didn't stop his hasty footwork when he noticed me, crouching in front of the stairs – nope, the poor bastard was in panic, so he kept speedwalking like nobody's business.

'Who fell down, Lovino? And where's the—OH! Did the girl fall off the stairs? Oh GOD!'

'Antonio, would you please calm down already?' I asked him like the huge hypocrite I was. 'It's okay, she fell off the stairs, yes, but she kind of stopped falling halfway, so you can—'

I abruptly shut up when Antonio, apparently too caught up in his own thoughts to hear me, raced past me and, after uttering a surprised little 'oh', _stumbled off the stairs as well_.

…

'Whaaaaaaaaa!' he yelled, as he tripped over his feet and rolled down, even passing Moody Kid in the process, who just stared at him like all of us stared at the weird, falling Spanish man, bouncing and bumping into things and finally, stopping against the huge, white-and-blue vase, strategically placed somewhere down the stairs.

Then there was a silence.

I shot up, pale as a sheet. 'A-Antonio! Are you still alive?'

He groaned loudly.

'I think… I think I broke my toenail… ahahahaha…'

And he passed out.

…

…

Oh _brother_.


	14. Quote 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Well, I didn't pass my driving test. Yes, that was a bummer, indeed. Luckily enough, I didn't fail because of some stupid small mistake – noooo, I failed because I made a big mistake. _XDDDDDDD  
_You see, I was supposed to make a U-turn, so I attempted to do one. But the next thing I know, the examinator grabs my wheel and tells me to watch the hell out for that car behind me.  
__And I go like 'Oh, I didn't see him!~'  
_…_ahahahaha. Yeah. Wasn't very smart of me.  
__Anyway, I now have to wait for at least two weeks before I can do another driving test. Let's hope I'll make it the next time. That would be nice._

_A/n2: My mother wants me to go do something fun already. Because I've been pretty much working my entire Summer break, she feels like I'm kind of throwing my youth away.  
_'_You should go out and meet people,' she told me.  
_'_You mean you want me to go out and meet guys,' I corrected her.  
_'_Well,' mom defensively said, 'I'd like you to become happy with a boy, yes. So you should go out with some other single friends and chase them!'  
__So, by saying 'you should go out and have fun now you're still young', she's actually saying 'GO GET A DAMN BOYFRIEND ALREADY, I WANT GRANDCHILDREN FROM YOU AND I WANT YOUR LIFE TO BE PERFECTLY IN ORDER.'  
__Why is it that people/parents always expect so many things from you when you're a twenty-something? Why? Is it a rule or something? Ugh!_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 14:

**We owe our children – the most vulnerable citizens in any society – a life free from violence and fear.  
**_Nelson Mandela  
__(South African revolutionary and politician)_

Well.

…

So I went down the stairs (with the boys, carefully, one step at a time, because _no_ _way_ I was going to let them stand in front of the dangerous stairs like that, I didn't want more severely damaged people lying around the House and complaining about broken toenails) and picked up Moody Kid halfway.

Unsurprisingly, she first didn't want to come with me at all and threatened me with trembling lips and warning, watery eyes.

I frowned and wanted to nag at her to stop acting like a little bitch, dammit, because her Papa Toni was lying down the stairs, completely _broken_ and shit, but then I remembered the boys attempt at saying "shit" earlier – and I decided I should probably watch my words a bit.

Besides, I also happened to notice Moody Girl's knees were both bleeding, and there was a big bump on her forehead.

The poor girl shook like a leaf.

…

Oh.

'W-wait a minute, okay?' I told the girl, and continued descending the stairs, until the boys and I were standing on solid ground again.

I looked at Antonio, still unconscious, his face crashed against the vase – which was perfectly fine by the way, must be a vase made of fucking _steel_ or something – and then I looked back up, to Moody Girl, who now was looking down the stairs with fear and tears in her eyes, quivering madly.

…

Wait, what…

Who did I help first? Shit, did I really have to _choose_ between Antonio and Moody Kid now?

…

…

Ugh.

Well, sorry, Antonio, but a frail, little girl is a tad more important than a tattered lover. I suppose.

'Okay.' I turned to Creepy Kid and Dumb Kid, who were both watching the crumpled-up Antonio like he was a one-man show (which he probably really _was_ right now), and snapped my fingers to get their attention. It worked, and two pairs of hazel eyes eyed me curiously seconds later.

'Hey, can the two of you watch Antonio for a little while?' I asked.

Dumb Kid blinked with his eyes, having no idea what the hell I was talking about, and pointed to the floral design on the vase, grinning.

Creepy Kid went back to watching Antonio's twitching limbs and seemed to be intrigued.

I twisted my lips in frustration. Great, looks like I had to resort to desperate measures…

**KIDDY-TALK**.

'H-hey, wh-where's P-P-Papa Toni?' I managed to spit out, clenching my fists – and oh, what do you know, the both of them instantly looked at me again.

'Papa Toni!' Creepy Kid said, pointing to Antonio's groggy body.

'Yaaa! Papa Toni!' Dumb Kid also shrieked, nodding.

'Yes yes, there he is, that… that's Papa Toni, alright.' I looked at Antonio worriedly, but let out a relieved sigh when I saw Antonio was already opening his eyes, muttering soft, Spanish… profanities.

…

Yeah well let's just ignore that for now. More importantly, Antonio had regained his consciousness again, so I could leave him be for a while.

And with 'leave him be', I meant 'leave him at the mercy of the kids'.

'Watch Papa Toni for me,' I therefore told Creepy and Dumb Kid. 'Try to take care of him while I… I-I mean, Papa Lovi… goes to fetch and patch up your sister. O-okay?'

'Oaaaaay!' Dumb Kid said, fist-punching the air.

'Kayyyyyy!' Creepy Kid agreed as well, and launched himself onto one of Antonio's legs.

'Gyah!' Antonio choked out.

…

…

He'd be fine.

Probably.

I internally apologized to Antonio – sorry darling, just bear with me for now – and then I quickly sprinted up the stairs again.

**\0o0/**

Moody Kid waited for me to come up again and greeted me with an accusing, upset glare.

'Wh-what's with the scowling!' I immediately defended myself. 'I needed to check on your brothers and f…f-f-_father_ first, dammit!'

'Dammit,' the girl repeated.

I cringed. Fuck, first the boys, now the girl, too! If Antonio heard, he'd be _so_ angry, there would be steam coming out of his (now flattened) nose!

'You know, you really shouldn't say that,' I tried to talk into the girl. 'It's a bad word. I'm just yelling it all the time because I'm a bad-tempered douchebag. Are _you_ a bad-tempered douchebag?'

'Dammit,' the girl responded, and made a sour face. 'Owie.'

'Owie?' I said – and then looked at Moody Kid's knees. They were scratched and bloody.

Oh. Yes, owie indeed.

'Aww.' I sat down next to her and bit my lower lip. 'That must have hurt, huh?'

'Yea.' The girl sniveled, but then demonstratively turned away from me again.

Of course, my instincts told me to nag at the girl once again that it wasn't _my_ fault she had fallen off the stairs and hurt herself – hell, I even wanted to kindly inform her about the fact it was all her _own_ stupid fault, just like it was _her_ fault her Papa Toni had almost got himself killed by the deadly stairs-steel vase combination.

But then a wiser and much calmer voice in the back of my head asked me one simple question:

What would _you_ like to hear from Grandpa Rome, after hurting yourself?

…

Well.

S-some encouraging words would be nice.

'You… you sure are a big girl, aren't you?' I carefully said to her back. 'You fell this far down the stairs, and yet, you only cried for just a few minutes. That's… that's really awesome, you know? I'd have cried my damn eyes out!'

Oh – easy on the questionable words, Lovino.

The girl hesitated, but glanced over her shoulder anyway. Her eyes were glassy, big and sad. Like a goddamn basset hound beast thing.

'You're a strong girl!' I told her, feeling my need to cheer her up _burning_ like a pedagogic fire. 'You're awesome, baby!'

After hearing that last word, the girl's eyes became even bigger, her cheeks flushing a happy, rosy pink. She turned to me right away, her head tilted to the side expectantly.

'I-I mean…' I stammered, wondering _why the hellfire did I just call that girl 'baby'_, '…y-you shouldn't feel sad, because I'm here. Papa… Papa Lovi's here. I'll make the pain go away, okay?'

'Kay,' Moody Kid muttered, still scowling – but also still blushing.

'O-okay. Now. Can you walk?'

I awkwardly picked her up and tried putting her back on her feet, but she shook her head and pouted.

'You can't walk?' I asked.

She shook her head once more.

'Shall I – Papa Lovi carry you?'

Her head froze in its shaking movements.

'Y-yea,' I heard her mumble after a short silence – _very_ softly.

'I'll carry you then.'

I lifted her up in my arms. She gave a startled little yelp and stared at me like 'WTF are you DOING, you BLOCKHEAD', but relaxed when she saw my smile.

Yes, I was smiling, apparently.

'You know,' I said, walking down the stairs again, 'you really don't have to be afraid of… Papa Lovi and Papa Toni. We're a bit weird, yes, but we're nice… papa's.'

'Papa's,' the girl said, like it was a whole new experience.

'And don't worry – I'll make sure you won't fall down the stairs anymore. Okay? Papa Lovi and Papa Toni will take care of that.'

'Hm-hm.' Moody Kid wriggled around in my arms until she found a more comfortable position and sighed. And maybe my eyes were deceiving me, but I think I saw a tiny little smile, tugging on the corners of her mouth.

…

N-now what was this warm and fuzzy feeling, dammit?

**\0o0/**

When I entered the kitchen – we kept the first-aid kid in the kitchen – Moody Kid and I were greeted by Antonio, who sat on the kitchen counter.

'Hi Lovi! And hi, little cutie!'

'Papa Toni,' the girl swiftly acknowledged him.

'Oh! Oh! She called me Papa Toni!~' Antonio almost swooned. 'Did you hear, Lovi?'

'Yeah, I heard.' I walked over to him and smiled some more, now that I saw he was _clearly_ feeling much better. 'Are you okay? The boys took care of you, didn't they?'

He laughed a rather pained laugh. 'Ahh, well, I don't really know about that, my love…'

'What do you mean, you don't know?' I now frowned, sitting the girl next to Antonio. 'And where are they, anyway?'

His eyebrows twitched.

'The boys? Ah, I told them to go watch some TV. They tried to take care of my bruises and bumps, but they took the job way too seriously, and I think they were planning to _**saw my leg off**_.'

I gaped at him. 'They _what_?'

'I don't know for sure,' Antonio continued, 'but one of them kept staring at a decorative halberd, while the other one started to cry and cling to my leg desperately.'

I whistled. 'Whoa. Heavy.'

'But then I told them that their Papa Lovi was going to safe both Papa Toni and his leg, and they should watch some cartoons until we'd call them for breakfast. After that, I dragged myself to the kitchen, hopped on the counter, and here I am, bleeding and stuff!~'

He beamed another smile at me, this time a lot more happy and honest.

'You're such a moron,' I said, but chuckled anyway.

'I take that as a compliment!~'

'We better prepare ourselves for a hard time, huh? Raising these twerps and all,' I commented, opening a cabinet and taking out the first-aid kit.

Moody Kid shuddered upon seeing the scary red cross on the white box and shuffled closer to Antonio, wrapping her arms around one of his.

'Ah, don't be scared, kiddo!~' Antonio picked her up – hop, just like that – and planted her on his lap. 'Papa Lovi's going to safe both of us! It's going to be a-okay!'

Moody Kid once again had quite a shock, but Antonio's goofy, friendly smile was even more welcoming than that small one of me was, so she felt at ease faster than a slug with rollerblades on.

'She's so cute and brave,' Antonio said, smiling as he watched me taking out diverse medicines and bandages. 'She takes after you even more than I expected.'

'D-don't talk bullshit,' I grumpily said, moistening a little washcloth. 'If she really takes after me _that_ much, the cleaning of her wounds is going to be hell – so could you hold her for me for a second?'

'Yep.' Antonio gripped the arms of Moody Kid a bit firmer, giving her a soothing smile when the girl looked up at him nervously.

'Ah, this is going to sting a bit, cutie. But don't worry, it's all for the best!'

Antonio said more things, but I didn't listen to what he said, because I knew he was jabbering this much to distract the girl from the painful wound-cleaning that was going to follow in about 3… 2… 1…

'_Ouch_!' Moody Kid shot an _incredible_ hateful glare in my direction, as soon as I touched her reddened knee with the wet cloth. She instantly started to struggle in Antonio's arms, whining and kicking her feet at me.

But she didn't cry!

'What's that?' I grinned, holding still her other leg and softly dapping the scratches on it. 'Antonio… I mean, Papa Toni, do you notice it as well? I think I don't see any tears!'

'You're _right_!' Antonio gasped and hugged the girl.

'Eh?' Moody Kid stammered, a little bit confused.

'But this is so very _painful_!' I continued – dampening her knees with friggin' lighting speed. 'And yet, she doesn't shed a tear! Whoa!'

'That's because Papa Toni and Papa Lovi's little girl is so _tough_!'

I couldn't help but feel another _pang_ of fuzziness shoot through me when Antonio called Moody Kid our little girl (was this that feeling Antonio described as being overwhelmed with cuteness?) and I looked at the girl's face, wondering how she'd respond on that.

Moody Kid blushed again, although still not very happy with this situation. Then she brusquely leaned forward, sinking her little teeth into Antonio's wrists when I applied some iodine onto her knees – and yes, yes, that sure hurt her, since I now could see she was trying very hard to keep her saved-up tears from rolling down her cheeks.

The girl didn't have that vicious teeth yet, thankfully enough, and Antonio just smiled and gently moistened her forehead.

'Ah, you can cry if you want to, cutie. That's alright, you're still the toughest little girl I know! Honestly!'

But Moody Kid didn't want our stupid, smelly pity, and kept sitting and holding on to Antonio like that, until I showed her some colorful bandages.

I was rather surprised to see those, though. Since when did we have those kiddie bandages, did Antonio bought them a few weeks ago or something?

'Yes,' Antonio responded when I asked him, 'because, Lovi, do you know that bandages with cute colors and animals on them work a lot faster on the healing process than regular, boring bandages?'

'You are so full of crap, someone should flush you,' I said.

Antonio snorted haughtily. 'Or _am_ I? Ever heard of the miraculous placebo-effect, Lovino?'

'The what?'

'The placebo-effect. It's like giving people that have a major headache a special kind of pill and telling them it will cure them of all their horrible pains within an hour, for example. Convinced of its effectiveness, the people who swallowed the pill will start feeling better pretty soon. All thanks to the pill? No, because the pill is just a placebo – a useless, harmless pill. But because the people who took it were assured they'd feel better after the pill, they actually _did _start feeling better. And that, my dear Lovi, is called the placebo-effect!'

I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

'Or something like that!~' Antonio concluded his explanation, and then got rid of the white coat and old-man-glasses to happily continue humming and sitting.

…

Whoaaaaaa.

I was baffled. I had _no _idea where he had got all that information from. That man's weird brain never ceased to amaze me _but don't tell him I said that_. Seriously. He'll grow a head as big as the sun and that's just not handy.

Anyway, Moody Kid, whose attention was effectively stimulated by the happy bandages I offered her, carefully studied every single bandage, before finally picking out three different ones: a yellow one with a smiling flower (fucking creepy) on it, a blue one with a grinning cloud (oh my _god_) on it, and a pink one with a laughing book on it (and _holy_ _shitsticks_, I wish I was lying, but that was the most haunting image I had ever seen).

'N-now,' I muttered, while placing the traumatizing bandages on their rightful places – knees and forehead (sure, she didn't really need a bandage for her forehead, but what the hell, it was her little bandage party), 'you can just sit with your brothers until Papa Toni and I will call you for breakfast. I think they're watching TV. Okay?'

'Kay,' Moody Kid nodded, but never taking her eyes of her super awesome _**just kidding they would keep me from dreaming peacefully tonight **_bandages.

I put her down on the floor. The girl kept staring at her bandages, even when she slowly walked out of the kitchen – almost bumping into a wall.

'Hey, watch it!' I said. 'I don't want to stick another fucking scary bandage on your face, you ditzy twerp!'

'Eheee,' the girl said, looking over her shoulder at me and Antonio, and giggled playfully.

After that, she ran to the living room, calling out to her brothers, no doubt to show them her terror-legs.

…

So she _liked_ it if I called her weird names.

What a relief.

**\0o0/**

Antonio had a lot more wounds that I had to take care of, I noticed soon after I started tending his cuts, scratches and bumps.

His legs were all bloody and bruised, his arms had endured some nasty slashes and the skin of his face was reddish and swollen. Also, he had several bulges on the back of his head.

…

R-really, only when I was doing my best to ease his pain, I finally began to realize Antonio had make a downright _awful _trip downstairs. It was a goddamn miracle he hadn't broken anything, or didn't got an concussion out of the merciless smack to the ground.

'S-so…' I muttered, dabbing one of his damaged legs with iodine as carefully as I could, '…how comes you're not mad at me or anything?'

'Hmmm?' Antonio eyed me strangely. 'Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you, sweetie?'

I swallowed a lump and frowned hard. 'I-I let you be. I mean… I didn't notice you had _this _much wounds, and I just left you.'

'No you didn't. You told the boys to take care of me and went to save the girl from the stairs, before she'd fall off the stairs just as alarmingly as I did.'

Antonio smiled and ruffled my hair.

'You were just being a good dad, Lovi.'

'Would you have done the same?' I paused tending his wounds to stare at him.

Antonio blinked and thought about it for a little while, before nodding.

'Yes, I would also save the kids, first.'

'You would?'

'I would.'

'Yeah, I figured out that much. And that's good – I'd probably kick your ass if you had the guts to save me before her.' I finally managed to smile a bit at him, but give him a puzzled look right after. 'But _why_?'

'Why what?'

'Why… why do we both feel like it's more important to save a stupid little, whiny girl than… u-um… t-the man we love?'

Antonio watched my totally confused expression in silent amusement, his eyes softening. Then, he leaned forwards, his face just a few inches away from mine.

'Because she's our _daughter_, Lovino. Our flesh and blood.'

'Works it like that?' I mumbled, shyly trying to push his face away.

He chuckled, suddenly gripped my wrists and pulled me against him – for as far as he could, while sitting on the counter.

'Lovi, did you know that most females, regardless of the species, are in the possession of something like… the mother-instinct?'

I nodded and decided to just… continue to take care of and bandage his body like this, no matter how clumsy it must have looked.

'A mother's instinct,' Antonio carried on, 'or a mother's love, is probably one of the strongest powers on earth. Mothers have proven to be perfectly able to risk their lives without second thought, if it could save their kid. It's amazing how strong and dangerous females can become, when they notice their kid in peril.'

'B-but we're not female, let alone mothers. We're male. We're… fathers,' I said – once again wondering where on earth he got that knowledge from.

He laughed a bit. 'What, so you're saying men are worthless, egocentric creatures? Of course fathers can have that instinct, too! Certainly!'

'Yeah?'

'Absolutely!'

'Well, if you say so.' I paused and frowned, then looked up at Antonio again. 'By the way, how comes you _know_ all of that shit? You almost sound like a fucking psychologist!'

'I read some books,' Antonio confessed with a proud smile.

'You _read books_?' I stared at him, not-believing what I was hearing. 'You… _read stuff_, out of free will? Just like that?'

Antonio snorted. 'You don't have to act all surprised about it! I had to do _something_, when we were separated for so long. I was bored. And we still had all those books we got for our wedding, so I was like, well, since I'm suffering already anyway, why not sit down and read some of those?'

'Ahh, that explains a lot.' I nodded understandingly. 'The placebo-effect, the mother's instinct… what's next?' I laughed a bit.

'A lecture about the bone-chilling wonders of cognitive dissonance,' Antonio sternly said.

I stopped laughing. Once again, I looked at him, bewildered.

He just sheepishly grinned back at me. 'Or something like that!~'

…

I couldn't read him. I just couldn't.

So instead of pretending I knew exactly what he was talking about – although I doubted he'd believe me, since he'd seen my dumb, confused look already – I made an annoyed "tsk!" –sound and dabbed a nasty wound on his arm, _extra hard!_

Antonio gasped. 'Ouch! Loviiii, you're hurting me!'

'Aww, you poor sucker.' I smirked at him, but instantly tended the cuts on his arm more careful. 'Does it hurt that much? Do you want me to kiss it better or something?'

That last bit was meant as a sarcastic sort of joke, even though you could probably hear my worried tone right through it, and so I hadn't expect Antonio to seriously, think about it.

But he did.

'I-I'd like you to kiss me better, yes.'

Whoop, up snapped my head.

'W-what?' I stammered.

He flushed and didn't directly look at me, but he still repeated what he just had said.

'I said I'd like you to kiss me better, Lovi.'

'Oh,' I said. Then I had to squeeze my lips together and bow my head a little bit because _oh my fucking god that man was so darn __**adorable**_, I thought I'd fucking _explode_ from the cuteness of it all!

'Lovi?' Antonio asked, worried.

'A-alright,' I said, quickly recovering from the moment I lost my aloof, tough composure, 'I-I'll kiss you.'

I grabbed his wrist and wanted to guide my lips to one of the wounds on his arm, but Antonio gently twisted his wrist free and took my chin, tilting my face upwards.

'Not _there_, Lovi.'

He smiled and ran his thumb over my lips, a silent, but very clear question.

'T-that's not kissing it better,' I mumbled stubbornly, feeling my face heat up immediately, 'that's… that's just _kissing_.'

'It'll make me feel better, though.'

'Well.' I huffed, but hesitantly allowed his big, green eyes to make contact with my own. 'It'll… it'll probably make me feel better, as well. Since you're sweet. And I-I like kissing you. And… and stuff. Because you're nice and all.'

Antonio chuckled. 'What are you trying to say, Lovino?'

'I have _no_ fucking clue.' I blushed even _harder_. 'All I can say is strange shit, dammit, and it's all your fault, and I love you, d-d-d-dar… ling.'

Antonio groaned and shivered, pulling me against him with his free hand. '_God_ you're _cute_, Lovi.'

'N-n-no, _you_ are, dammit!' I grumbled, as he slowly started pulling my face closer to his. 'W-with your… your stupid, childish behavior, d-dammit…'

He smiled and shook his head. 'You are way cuter, my love.'

'Am _not_.'

'Are too…'

'A-am not…'

'Are too, Lovi…'

'Am n—nmmhg.'

And I was wonderfully cut off.


	15. Quote 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Do you ever feel like your life's standing still? I certainly have. I constantly feel like I should do something to prove I'm actually moving forward in my life, but in the end, thanks to all my worries and fears, I end up standing still anyway.  
__Ah! Don't think I'm depressed or anything, though! _^^;;; _I tend to whine if nothing "fun" happens in my life for quite a while. Maybe I'm just bored. I don't know._

_A/n2: Here are some nice funfacts about Spanish people, for your amusement! Yazaaah!  
__According to a random magazine that handed out tips for tourists that want to visit specific European countries, Spaniards all ADORE children and old people (especially their own). Spaniards also are very nice and friendly towards tourists, but they tend to laugh and make fun at you behind your back. Also, don't answer your phone when you're about to buy something, because the Spaniards (and no doubt many, many more people worldwide) absolutely hate it when you do that and may ignore you/refuse to help you if you still have the guts to answer your annoying phone anyway.  
__I don't know if these are all real facts – I got it out of a silly magazine, after all – but I thought I should share it with you guys! _^^

_A/n3: Since I'm busy anyway, this is what the magazines said about the Italians:  
__Italians don't want you to wander around looking like some kind of homeless loser. If you go out in town, work that body you have, dammit! Also, you should only order a cappuccino in the morning. They'll frown upon you if you order it at any other time. Why not take an espresso or something else in the afternoon?  
__Third, you shouldn't walk and eat. That's just stupid, except when you're eating icecream. And those naps they take that seem to be a lot like siesta's? Don't call them siesta's – you're not in Spain. Call them anything other than that.  
__And last but not least: Italians are maniacs on the road, but that shouldn't be a very big surprise…  
__Once again, I don't know if these funfacts are (all) correct. If they aren't, I'm sorry for offending anybody. I just had a lot of fun reading them, and I hope you had fun with these as well! _8DDDDD

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 15:

**We speak of educating our children. Do we know that our children also educate us?**  
_Lydia Sigourney  
__(American poet)_

'Okay, the last one. Now hold still for a sec…'

I placed a yellowish bandage with cutesy butterflies on it – you can imagine how happy I was when I discovered not _all _the bandages were fucking creepy – over the bridge of Antonio's nose, and smiled contently.

'…and there you go, you are all settled to be your own annoying self, once again!'

'Yay!' Antonio celebrated, throwing his arms in the air. He looked like a very cheerful, colorful mummy, which was ridiculous, but I bit my lower lip to keep myself from laughing out loud.

'Just watch it, okay?' I therefore sternly said, frowning. 'I mean, we're all out of band-aids now, so don't do anything stupid. I won't be able to patch you up.'

'Then we'll buy some more when we're in town.' Antonio smiled. 'Ah, it's been a while since the last time we went to town together, isn't it? It'll be fun!~'

'We'll have to visit Doctor Tosca, first.'

'Yes, after we've eaten breakfast.'

'Shit!' I gasped, clasping my mouth. 'Breakfast! Those demon children still have to eat, dammit!'

'So do we, so _let's,_' Antonio kindly reminded me and hopped off the kitchen counter. He calmly walked over to the kitchen table right after, and started preparing it for breakfast.

I watched him unfolding a table cloth over the table and didn't know what to do, but then a small voice in the back of my head said '**go help him already, you lazy asshole**' and so I started taking out plates and cups and the like.

'Antonio,' I hesitated as I brought the breakable stuff to the table, 'do you know what kids their age like to have for breakfast? For example, what did _I _like to have for breakfast, when I was young?'

Antonio frowned a bit and rubbed his chin. 'Well… um, I don't really remember… besides, I was away from home a lot back then, so I mostly let the servants and Femke take care of that…'

'Well, we can't let them have bread, can we?' I nervously looked down the bowl in my hands, filled with all kinds of buns and bread-shit that I had just neatly organized. 'I mean… maybe they'll choke in it!'

'Hm, well…' Antonio – still rubbing that chin of his – looked around the room, squinting his eyes a little bit, '…then what about… fruit?'

'Fruit?'

'You know, strawberries, apples, banana—'

'Are you seriously explaining to me what fruit is?'

'Um.'

'I _know _what motherfucking _fruit _is, Antonio.'

He pouted. 'But you said 'fruit?' in such an amazed matter…'

'Well, that's because I hadn't thought about fruit yet.'

'And?' Antonio smiled hopefully at me. 'Good idea?'

'Yes, a good idea.' I smiled back and even patted him on the – unhurt – shoulder.

Antonio blushed and beamed such an endearing grin at me, I literally felt like tackling him to the ground. But that would be agonizing for him, so I didn't – instead, I asked him what kinds of fruit he had.

'Ohh, lots of them, I just bought most of them a few days ago! I have melons, grapes, apples, bananas, strawberries, some kiwifruit…'

'Okay then,' I said, very businesslike, 'we'll just give them fruit for now, then. Can you fetch the kids? Then I'll start preparing the fruit.'

'Right away!' Antonio said, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before walking out of the room, calling the kids.

'Yoohoo, kiddos! Time for breakfast! Now where are—ahh, there you are!~ Jumping on the sofa!~ Ohh, Papa Lovi's going to be furious if he finds out you broke that creepy telephone!~'

…

I frowned. Actually, I didn't give a shit, I never liked that thing anyway.

But that was not the reason I was frowning – I was frowning because I still just couldn't quite understand our current situation. Sure, I was slowly beginning to accept the kids, and they weren't _too _bad, so far, but the whole how-they-got-here story seemed to be… well, weird. _Too_ weird.

I firstly had decided to just go with whatever England had said – he _created_ them, so he should know better than me, I guess – but the more I thought about it, the more unanswered questions popped up inside of me.

I thoughtfully began to slice up a tomato – and no, I don't care whether it is or isn't a fruit, eating a tomato is just fucking normal to me and the demon children should be introduced to its fantastic taste.

Hmm. Better discuss this subject with Antonio later.

…

The England-thing, not the tomato-thing.

**\0o0/**

Extremely focused – I mean, I think I was even starting to look cross-eyed – I held up a fork with a tiny piece of apple in front of Creepy Kid's face.

'Okay kid, say aaaaaaah…'

Creepy kid grinned creepily and held one of his hands in front of his eyes, while fisting his other hand.

'_**Aaaarrrgghh**_!'

…

I blankly stared at him.

'What.'

Antonio, who was busy getting his fork back from Moody Kid (little tyrant was being a pain in the ass again), laughed.

'Oh, they were watching some adult documentary about pirates, Lovi!~ You should have seen the smile on his face when they started keelhauling a man!~'

'Say _what_?' I stammered, pausing my fork just before Creepy Kid's opened mouth.

Antonio smile froze. '_God_. The _guts _these kids have. Even _I_ don't enjoy watching those kinds of things, and I've _seen_ some things.'

'But they shouldn't watch such a scary documentary!' I said, scowling and finally giving Creepy Kid his share of apple. 'I know _this_ one can handle the bloodiness, but _that_ one certainly doesn't!'

I pointed to Dumb Kid, who had this pitiful, trembling lip all this time and hadn't blinked once ever since he had walked into the kitchen.

'You're right,' Antonio said, now guiding a piece of kiwi to Dumb Kid's quivering mouth, 'we better make sure they don't get to watch those scary things. Who knows, maybe they'll get bad dreams about it…'

I nodded, pricking a strawberry on my fork – and deliberately ate it myself, in spite of Creepy Kid's begging eyes, because I was hungry too, dammit, and I wanted to eat something as well.

'We better ask Doctor Tosca on some… basic kid-stuff, huh? Like TV-shows they are allowed to see, and toys, and rules… stuff like that.'

'You think she knows much about that, though?' Antonio said, before taking a bite of a piece of melon. 'Is she a mom herself yet?'

'Well, I do know she has a perverted husband… and she is quite young herself, so… maybe she has one, yes. But whatever, she's a doctor, so she should know about kid-stuff as well, dammit.'

'If you say so.' Antonio shrugged and chuckled when Moody Kid grumpily grabbed his wrist and chomped a strawberry off the fork he was holding.

**\0o0/**

For a few minutes, you could only hear our eating sounds in the kitchen.

And I had to say, it was pretty nice to hear those sounds. I mean, when the kids weren't around yet, Antonio and I usually put on the radio when we were having dinner or something, just because it would be way too fucking quiet in this huge House otherwise. The kitchen was so damn big and spacious, it could easily go for a very interesting kind of classroom.

The kids had a great breakfast, by the way. All kids seemed to love the fruit, except for bananas and the kiwifruit – Moody and Creepy Kid seemed to dislike the taste bananas had and Dumb Kid wasn't really fond of kiwifruit. They _did _like the tomatoes, but only if we peeled the skin off and removed the little seeds in them. Plus, Antonio had to do the stupid 'Here comes the trainey-waney!~' -thing before the demon children willingly opened their yaps for the delicious red fruit/vegetable/train.

…

Kids were fucking _picky_.

I huffed, wiped some sticky juice off Dumb Kid's hands and looked at Antonio. He was making grotesque flying train-movements with his hands and seemed to be enjoying himself _and _the kids (Moody and Creepy Kid smiled very broadly, after all) a lot.

So I stopped grumbling and smiled a bit as well. Dumb Kid thought the smile was for him and didn't know how rapidly to grin back at me.

'Ehehehehe!'

I chuckled upon seeing that and teasingly poked his cheek.

'What are you "ehehehehe" –ing for? Don't think we are having fun, feeding you and your demonic brother and sister. We're just… getting rid of our fruit.'

…

But I had to admit it was kind of fun to get rid of your fruit like this.

**\0o0/**

Well, I could tell you all about how long it took us to get the kids all cleaned and dressed up again before they finally were sitting in the back of the car again, but you know what – I _won't_, because it's just not that interesting to tell, and it'd depress and tire me senseless.

So fuck you all.

…

Okay, let's just say that it _wasn't_ easy, and that my and Antonio's energy level had gone down the drain by the time we were ready to go to Doctor Tosca's clinic.

Hell, Antonio didn't even put up a fight when I told him I wanted to drive my car – he just nodded and gave me the keys, then got in the car and…

…tumbled over, right on the laps of the pint-sized terrors. Who all squeaked like tiny and very annoying squirrels when their Spanish father figure crashed down on them like that.

'Whaa!'

'Ohhh?'

'Heyy!'

'Just… just give me some time to recharge, okay…' Antonio mumbled, '…just leave me be for a minute… god, Papa Toni's tired…'

I watched the kids and I was seriously wondering if those little bastards could show something like empathy or, you know, _mercy_ for the poor, bruised man on their collective laps, but then I saw Creepy Kid beam a scheming grin to his brother, next to him, and he started to attack Antonio's back with his evil little fists.

Dumb Kid, who thought that was absolutely hilarious and the best thing since skinless tomatoes, laughed loudly and decided to do something irritating as well, poking the back of Antonio's neck.

Antonio groaned. 'Nooooooo…'

'Hey!' I started, having enough of the boys' mean behavior. 'Stop that right now or I'll—'

_Smack!_

_Pow!_

'Owie!' the boys cried out synchronously and rubbed the back of their heads. Both of them then shot pouty looks at Moody Kid, who swish-swashed her hands together like "and that's that" and squished her eyes almost shut.

'No!' she firmly told the boys, pointing to Antonio (or his head, since his head-part was lying on her lap). Then she turned to the window next to her and pretended like she hadn't said anything at all.

The boys puffed their cheeks and stuck out their tongue at the girl, but at least they indeed stopped hurting Antonio.

'No sticking out your tongue at your sister!' I scolded them, and flicked their foreheads ('Owie!'/'Yow!'), before I grabbed Antonio's shirt and – slowly – pulled him upright again. It wasn't an easy thing to do, since I kept bumping my head to the damn low ceiling, but I managed.

I sweated like a greasy pony when he finally sat upright, though. Yuck.

'Alright, I'm up, I'm up…' Antonio sighed tiredly, looking at me with dull eyes. 'What did I miss?'

'Your moody daughter saved your butt from your satanic sons,' I grumpily explained, and got in the driver's seat.

'Ohhh?' His eyes instantly got more lively again, I noticed in the rear window, and he turned his head to the girl's denying back.

'Aww, thanks, cutie!~ You're a peach!~'

The girl muttered something inaudible, but judging on Antonio's laugh, it was something sweet.

…

…

On the other hand, Antonio also laughed at insults and evil profanities.

Well, whatever. What mattered was that Antonio was cheered up again (and now sourly telling the boys they were 'wolfish lemons', since they also wanted to be a fruit) and the ambiance in the car was well enough to get going already.

…

What the fuck are wolfish lemons, by the way?

**\0o0/**

Driving to Italy with a car filled with demon children wasn't a simple task to do, so when I started the car, I had already mentally prepared myself for a hellish ride. Sure, the first hour wouldn't be such a big deal, but all the hours that would follow after?

_**AWFULNESS TO THE FUCKING MAX.**_

Because eventually, the kids would probably want to piss, eat, drink, stretch their legs and do something else than sit on the backseat. I mean, we _all_ would want that – kids were no exception. They just gave up on sitting quietly way earlier, and there was nothing us adults could do about that, except for stopping the car, kicking the terrors out and hoping they'd feel better in a heartbeat, so you could still reach your destination before sunset.

So I was already groaning and rubbing my forehead, feeling very sorry for both me and Antonio, when all of a sudden my phone started '_sucking too hard on your lollipop, ohhh, love's gonna get you down!~_' –chanting (and I don't know either why I still had that horrible song as my ringtone, just shut up, it's easy to recognize okay).

'_Mister Romano,'_ the female, stern voice on the other side of the phone-line said, '_are you on your way to my clinic yet?'_

I didn't answer her right away, I just mentally walked through this huge imaginative bookcase, where I had registered all the female voices I knew, and I searched for all females that had a bored, almost monotone voice like hers _and _called me 'mister Romano'.

And had a clinic.

…

Well. Just one name came to mind, really.

'Doctor Tosca?' I said, hesitantly, because you never know, maybe it was Femke or Ukraine or Hungary, concealing her voice or whatever for some stupid reason.

'_Yes, it is I, Benedetta Tosca.'_

'Oh. Um… hi.'

'_Good morning, mister Romano.'_

'Right.' I decided not to start the motor yet and leaned back. 'So, your first name's Benedetta, huh? I'm so sorry.'

'_That's right. And I probably shouldn't have told you that in terms of privacy and personal safety, but I suppose that's too late now. Also, don't feel sorry for me, there's nothing wrong with my first name. Alright, maybe it's a bit old-fashioned. But that's all.'_

I pushed back the urge to sigh in annoyance, because doctor Tosca was, above all, a girl with huge breasts, and the discriminating asshole in me forced me to be polite to the female doctor with the royal chest-size and nag to some poor, flat-chested guy later.

…

No, _not_ Antonio, you mean bastards, I happened to _like_ him.

And his chest.

…

A-anyway…

'Doctor Tosca, why did you call me?' I asked the doctor as politely as I could. 'Is it urgent? Because we were about to leave, and that's kind of hard to do when you're calling. Besides, I need to drive all the way to Rome, and that's a pretty damn long way. So could you make it snappy? Please?'

'_Well, sounds like I called you just in time then. Mister Romano, you don't have to come over all the way to my clinic.'_

'We… don't?'

'_No. England has informed us doctors and our – what did you countries call them – "bosses" about the situation of you and mister Spain, and therefore, I would like to ask you to please stay where you are. Me and my assistants and interns are coming your way, and we will execute the examinations, tests and inspections on your children at your place. That way, you don't have to come to Italy and exhaust the kids. It's very important for us to do this analysis, for we can form a diagnosis after that.'_

Examinations? Tests? Inspections? Analysis? _Diagnosis_?

Sure, those were great words for scoring _massive_ points on Wordfeud, but _what the crap_?

'Sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about,' I stammered, giving Antonio a "change of plans" –look (although I had no idea how a look like _that_ look looks like, I just hoped it looked really logical and cool and shit, also, what's up with all the 'looks' and 'likes' in this sentence, dammit).

Doctor Tosca sighed. _'Mister Romano, I understand you're a bit confused about this, but these are the orders I got from your "boss". Italy's current president, for your information. I need to follow these orders, and __**you **__need to stay put and wait for my team to arrive.'_

'But—'

'_We'll arrive in about…' _Hurried babbling in the background, _'...half a hour. Just so you know.'_

'Um—'

'_Just stay where you are. We'll be there before you know it. And don't worry, we are professionals. Bye.'_

Click.

…

'Okay…' I muttered, slowly putting away my cell.

'Who was that, Lovi?' Antonio asked, squirming himself into the gap that separated the two front seats. 'I think I heard doctor Tosca's voice. Was it her?'

'Yes.' I looked at him, troubled. 'Looks like we're not going anywhere.'

Antonio blinked and cocked his head, like some sort of weird owl. 'What do you mean?'

'Doctor Tosca's team is coming this way. They are going to do their check up on the kids _here_. At our place.'

'Okay,' Antonio simply said, nodding. Then he thought a little longer about it, and frowned. 'But why _here_?'

'Something about not-wanting to exhaust the kids or something… ugh, I don't know, my head hurts.'

'Ohh,' he said.

Silence.

…

'Well!' Antonio then all of a sudden said, clapping his hands and turning himself to the – conspicuously quiet – kids. 'Let's get outside and play hide-and-seek, kiddo's! I'm it!'

The kids gasped in shock – a game all of a sudden, how totally unexpected! – and got their tiny butts as fast out of the car as possible, scrambling over the grassy field, running to the backyard, yelling and screaming things, because that's what kids _do_.

'That's that,' Antonio said, as soon as even Dumb Kid had disappeared out of sight, and hugged me and the driver's seat from behind. 'Now, let's talk a bit, my lovely Lovi, now that we're alone for a little while…~'

I couldn't help but gulp and blush.

**\0o0/**

You see, _Antonio's_ meaning of "let's talk a bit" was "let's have a steamy, intimate moment and save the talking for later".

_My_ meaning of "let's talk a bit" was "I have something serious to discuss with you, so please stop grinning like a damn pervert and listen up".

Needless to say, my meaning was a bit more important than his meaning, at the moment – so I kindly/reluctantly told him I had something to discuss with him, so if he could please stop grinning like a damn pervert and listen up.

'Aww.' Antonio gave me a soft squeeze. 'But it's been ages since the last time we did it in the car.'

'Wha—hey! We're _not _going to have sex now, dammit!' I said. 'There are kids outside! And doctor Tosca's team can show up any moment now! You wouldn't want our kids and doctor Tosca's team to be the witnesses of our sexual escapades, now, would you?'

'The kids running around the corridor didn't stop you from trying to get into my pants this morning, though.'

'That's COMPLETELY different, dammit!'

'But I _want_ youuuuu…' Antonio whined. 'I'm out of Lovi-love. You have no idea how horrible that is! You need to… _refill _my Lovi-love-meter, sweetie…'

'I don't know to feel flattered or ridiculed.'

'It wasn't my plan to make you feel flattered or ridiculed. I'm planning to make you feel something _else_. Can you guess what, hmmm?~'

He laughed softly, slid his hands lower and began to unbutton my shirt. At the same time, he started to whisper all kinds of dirty things in my ear that awoke something in my lower regions.

…

…

Ohhh _boy,_ didn't those heated touches and evil words feel fucking nerve-wreckingly _good_.

…

M-maybe we could do a very quick, very good little NO NO, THERE'S NO TIME FOR THAT, LOVINO, YOU HORNY ASS.

I mean, come on! There were problems lurking on the horizon! Big ones! And having car-sex won't _shoo_ them away or something! God!

'A-Antonio,' I finally managed to say, stopping his hands by grabbing them, 'I'm _serious_, dammit, so stop sexing me up. There's… something weird going on that we don't know anything about. I'm worried.'

That helped – nothing was a bigger cock-block than a having a bedpartner that was worrying about something that was completely unrelated to sex, after all – and so, Antonio let go of me.

'Then what's the matter, my love? Was it something doctor Tosca said?'

'It's a lot of things,' I said – a-and quickly buttoned my shirt again. 'And I'd like to talk to you about that.'

For once, Antonio got the message. So he hugged me again, caressing my (now folded) arms reassuringly.

'Okay, Lovi. Tell me what's been eating you, my love.'

So I did.


	16. Quote 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: I've got a very strange cat. You see, he tends to walk with me when I go walk the dog (that's correct, we have a cat and a dog, no wait, we even have two cats and a dog). He's weird as shit. Plus, he's mean. And evil.  
__BUT.  
__Not to kids.  
__My cat has his own fanclub/cult of kids. Our house is very close to some schools, so whenever the children walk by in the morning, they notice my cat and be all over him.  
__And when he's inside the house, they are ACTUALLY RINGING THE DOORBELL AND ASKING ME IF HE CAN COME OUT TO PLAY.  
__THEY WHISPER HIS NAME WHEN THEY PASS MY HOUSE. THEY __WHISPER IT.  
__WHAT. THE HELL.  
__At least I now know to stay on my cat's good side when the revolution comes._

_A/n2: I hate describing Antonio and Lovino fighting and nagging at each other for some (no doubt dumb) reason – that's why there hardly ever was a heavy argument between our two beloved dorks in Bottoms Up.  
__Still, in this fic and in this chapter, they will have a couple of arguments. It's probably because of their different personalities, some unresolved frustrations and the stressful lifestyle called 'parenthood'._

_A/n3: Jean Piaget was one of the many, many pedagogues/psychologists that I had to learn about during my study. He thought many ways of how to explain a child's behavior and growth and development, and he was one of the greatest yadayada blahblahblah I thought he was boring as fuck.  
__But hey, he loved (learning about) kids, so here you go, a long and kind of deep quotation from mister Piaget._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 16:

**If you want to be creative, stay in part a child, with the creativity and invention that characterizes children – before they are deformed by adult society.**  
_Jean Piaget  
__(Swiss psychologist, pedagogue and philosopher)_

I told Antonio about the uneasy feelings I got, every time I thought about the strange explanation England had given us earlier.

It's just… something just didn't feel quite _right _about it, there were too many questions that still paddled on in my head and the fact that doctor Tosca was so strict and creepy about investigating the kids at our place didn't please me either.

'I think England's lying,' I told Antonio, as we walked back into the backyard (what, of course we eventually had to walk back to the backyard and actually look for the demon children, it's not responsible to leave those three nitwits on their own, dammit).

'You think so?' Antonio asked me, his voice sounding a bit worried.

I nodded and rubbed my arm. 'It just doesn't make _sense_. It's too _easy_. It's too _weird_. I think… I think England might be up to something no-good – and somehow, our bosses and doctors are forced to be involved in this as well…'

'Sweetie, I think you've watched too many scary movies and/or CSI episodes.' Antonio sighed and gave me a soft push. 'Really, Lovi, I don't mind it when you wake up in the middle of the night, demanding me to hold and comfort you because some silly TV show made you have a nightmare, but come on.'

'Th-that was only _once_!' I nagged, face on fire _right _away. 'And _fuck_ if the Sixth Sense wasn't the fucking creepiest piece of terror I had ever seen!'

'It was just a movie, my love. It wasn't real.'

'But that kid! He saw _dead people!_'

'Yes, and we all know that can be kind of unpractical when you're trying to have a normal life and such.'

'You're mocking me.' I pouted and folded my arms, turning away a bit from Antonio. 'You asshole. You're my _husband_. You shouldn't mock me, you should fucking try and _believe_ me.'

Antonio saw my (slightly exaggerated _but fuck that_) hurt posture and _**kablammo**_, guilt struck him like a lightning bolt would stuck a defenseless, metal scarecrow in the middle of an open field during an intense summer storm, especially when I started to look at my wedding ring with this absentminded, wise look on my face.

…

Shut up, I can totally pull that off.

Antonio was shocked, naturally, and he quickly wrapped his arms around me, pressing me against his oh so very hot and awesome and apologetic body.

'I'm sorry,' he softly said, burying his face in the crook of my neck, 'it's not like I don't believe you at all… it's just that I don't _want _to believe you.'

I made a face. 'Well, that's reassuring.'

'No, no, I don't mean it like that, it's… Lovi, it's a pretty scary thought you have there, don't you think so?' Antonio raised his head up and looked at me. 'Suggesting that England might have something creepy up his sleeve that has got our bosses and doctors involved… that's scary! But then I'd like to know – why _kids_, Lovino? Why would England pick _kids _to manipulate our bosses and doctors?'

'Um.' I blinked my eyes.

'Yes?'

'Something with… you know, a kid discount…'

'…what?'

'You know, kids always have these discounts on things like… amusement parks, and movies, and specific museums…'

'So?'

'Well.' I started twiddling with fingers, knowing a very lame answer was inevitable. 'So England's manipulating the bosses with… all the discounts you can get on kids.'

'Right…'

'So yeah. Imagine all the money that'll be spared when the kids get their discounts! When they're visiting… movies and… um, museums…'

And then I kind of stopped talking, because even I didn't know where the hell I wanted to go with this, and because Antonio was shaking and doing his very best to keep himself from bursting out in uncontrollable laughter.

BUT HE FAILED EPICALLY, BECAUSE I STILL HEARD HIM GIGGLING, DAMMIT.

'_Pfffffrrt_…'

'You're laughing.'

'M-movies… museums… all the discounts…'

'I _will_ kick you if you don't stop.'

'And think of all the money that will be spared… 10 euros per kid for sure! Certainly! What a bargain! England will have the fate of poor, money-loving Europe in his hands with this wicked, money-saving plan!'

Antonio finally couldn't muffle his laughter anymore and within seconds, the whole garden was filled with his loud and annoying roaring (that's right, that wasn't laughing, that was _roaring_, like some kind of… of _dying_ _bull_).

Thankfully, I knew to put an end to Antonio's downright _mean_ behavior by tearfully—n-no, _courageously _calling him a heartless bastard, kicking him in the nuts and leaving him to squirm on the grass in agony all by himself, as I started looking for the kids.

**\0o0/**

Well, good thing the kids were about as bad at playing hide-and-seek as Antonio was at showing some goddamn sympathy, because I had found all the kids in the blink of an eye.

Moody Kid had hidden herself between the tomato plants (she even was holding in her breath so that her head would swell up like a giant red tomato, and now that I think about it, she did look a lot like a giant red tomato).

Creepy Kid had climbed up a three and was kind of difficult to find, until I started yelling that I had a nest filled with helpless little birds and a enormous rock, oh, what should I do with them, maybe I should use the rock for something unspeakable _evil _(shut up, maybe I did watch too many horror movies, so what). The sadist didn't know how fast to get out of that tree, and the look of pure disappointment and sadness on his face when he found out I had been lying was both pitiable and fucking _disturbing._

And Dumb Kid…

…

Well, he was the first one I saw.

No, I didn't _find_ him, I really _saw_ him, because he was just standing there, in the middle of the grass field, holding a straw of grass in each hand.

…

…

Seriously, was he doing this on purpose, or was the kid really just _that _stupid?

I even decided to toy with him a bit by sneaking around him and saying 'ohhh, now where could that one boy have gone to, I don't see him anywhere, maybe he's become one with the grass', but I stopped doing that when Dumb Kid was actually beginning to get nervous ('but w-what if he finds me?') and I was scared he might piss himself from the sheer excitement of it all.

But anyway, I found all the kids, and now they were sitting in the grass with me, not really knowing what to do next.

So I tried to take advantage of this moment of peace and quietness to explain to them there was a creepy, evil lady coming, with a whole team of creepy men and women, that would do all kinds of suspicious tests and the like on them that would most likely hurt.

The three of them gave me horrified faces and spontaneously started crying.

…

H-huh? What did I do?

'Easy now, easy,' I then heard Antonio say out of nowhere – and there he was, suddenly flopping down next to me, pulling both Dumb and Moody Kid on his lap to soothe them.

'There, there. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, okay? Papa Toni promises you that he'll protect you from the bad stuff. Okay?'

Dumb and Moody Kid stared at him with big, watery eyes and nodded slowly.

Meanwhile, Creepy Kid looked fucking _heart-broken_ and crawled over to Antonio, reaching out his little arms to him in a silent question.

'M-me, too… me…?'

'Ah, sorry, kiddo!' Antonio beamed a big smile at the boy. 'I have no more room for you!~'

…

Wh-what?

He said _what _now?

No more _room_ for him?

Before Antonio and his (hopefully unintentional) _meanness_ could smack down on the poor boy even _more_, I grabbed Creepy Kid's shirt from behind, pulled him into my arms and hugged him as tightly as I could.

I didn't even think about it – I just did it.

'It's alright, kid, it's alright, Papa Toni, he's just… just acting like a giant fucking _**shithead**_.'

Antonio immediately looked up, offended and confused. 'What? Why?'

I ignored him.

Creepy Kid didn't say anything – but he did grip my shirt and pressed his face into my chest.

'Don't worry. He's kidding! Of… of course he's kidding. He has room for you, too. Of course he has,' I tried to comfort him, stroking his back and mentally shooting glares like daggers and knives and motherfucking _**axes **_at Antonio.

Sadly, the idiot didn't get it.

'No, I really have no more room for him – why are you looking at me like that, Lovi? See, I'm already carrying two kids! And they're kind of heavy, so I don't think I can carry a third one... and… w-would you _please_ stop giving me those killing eye-beams, Lovino!'

…

Now don't get me wrong.

I knew Antonio was just being slow, and I knew he didn't mean to come over like a total jerk, I knew, believe me, but my _god_, you should have heard the heart-and-ear-shredding _wailing_ of Creepy Kid when he realized Antonio _really _wasn't going to hold him.

'W-what's the matter with him, what's wrong?' Antonio stammered, when he saw the kid was crying out loud now, and gripping me even more painfully.

'Ohh, nothing's wrong with _him_,' I hissed at him, patting Creepy Kid's head and never letting the intensity of my eyes lose their iciness, 'but there might just be something wrong with _you_, you dense piece of _shit_.'

'B-but I don't understand, wh-what did I… wait a minute, _what _did you call me?'

'A dense piece of shit! Do I need to spell it for you? A – dense – piece – of – **S-H-I-T**, Antonio, because that's what you fucking _are_!'

He narrowed his eyes and let go of Dumb and Moody Kid. 'Ah, so you're going to yell at me and call me names like the responsible adult you are, aren't you, Lovino?'

'I'm already _doing it_, you jackass!' I snapped back, releasing Creepy Kid.

Antonio snorted. 'Yeah, well, I don't really _feel_ like sitting back and smile while you're doing that, you know, so you better apologize to me now, or I'll—'

'Or you'll do fucking _what_, bastard? Get _violent_? Well _sure_, go on right ahead!'

He frowned. 'Lovino, I'm not—'

'I'm not afraid of you,' I said in a low voice, and gave a firm tug to his shirt, 'I'll _never _be afraid of you and all the fucked-up personalities you have, and _fuck_, I wish you weren't afraid of yourself, too!'

'You…' Antonio gritted his teeth and clasped my shirt in-between his fists as well. '…you don't have the damn _right _to tell me what to do! You don't know _anything_!'

'I know _enough_!'

'You _don't,_ you damn _loner_!'

I grimaced. 'Well, still better than being a sad excuse for a motherfucking _psychopath_!'

Antonio grunted. '_God_, you're such a… an arrogant son of a _bitch_!'

'And _you_ are a pathetic bastard!'

'You're an unwanted know-it-all!'

'You're an unwanted _wreck_-it-all!'

'Crybaby!'

'Manchild!'

'Second place!'

'Maniac!'

'Bedwetter!'

'Murderer!'

'And that's quite ENOUGH.'

Suddenly, both me and Antonio were harshly pulled away from each other by some guys in white suits. It happened so fast, I was still thinking of my next insult when doctor Tosca and her bouncy boobies appeared in front of me in all their bopping glory.

She gave me and Antonio – who still looked at me like some bloodthirsty warrior – a disappointed wag of her finger and sighed deeply.

'Gentlemen, gentlemen. Is this the way you should behave—'

'HE started it!' both me and Antonio shouted.

The doctor glared at us and adjusted her glasses.

'…how you should behave, in front of your _children_?'

Then she pointed to the kids, who were cowering together, shaking like a rattle and staring at us in fear.

Oh.

…

O-oh…

**\0o0/**

'It is very simple. My very competent team and I will perform a couple of tests or your kids, and we will give them a simple routine check-up to see if everything's alright with them. And we'll probably do some other stuff, too, but I'm not going to tell you anything about that. Our examination will probably take a few hours – and both you and your husband won't be allowed to be here when we'll execute our research. It's top secret.'

Doctor Tosca looked at Antonio and me in turns and frowned, scribbling something on a clipboard she was holding.

In the background, there was the sound of a huge, white, and, apparently, _inflatable_ laboratory, that was quickly being prepared in the backyard. It looked absolutely ridiculous, but the kids were mesmerized by the giant balloon-thing and I simply didn't have the energy or guts to complain about it, so I just kept quiet and stared at the doctor.

'Any questions?' she said, and thoughtlessly rubbed her bloated belly.

Her bloated… wait a minute…

'Are you pregnant?' I heard myself say – and oh, how awkward and squeaky my voice sounded.

The unexpected question caught doctor Tosca off guard and she coughed a bit, nodding.

'Yes. I'm with child, mister Romano. Six months, I believe.'

'How wonderful!' Antonio said, also sounding weird. 'Congratulations! You and your husband must be happy!'

'Well, yes. We are.' She cleared her throat. 'It's a big step, though. And I never thought I'd be a mother one day. I hope I'll be a good one. It's not a job cut out for everybody, you know.'

'You're right,' I said, looking down and sighing. 'You're so very _right_ about that…'

Antonio didn't say anything, although I noticed from the corner of my eye he was giving me quite some irritated looks.

'By the way, I crave for sex all day long,' doctor Tosca suddenly said.

'What?' Both me and Antonio snapped our heads back up to stare at the young brunette.

'Yeah,' she said, 'it's really unpractical, but I really, really want to have sex. Almost constantly. According to the bit of research I did, hormones have got something to do with it. So now, I wish to sleep with almost every moderately attractive man I see.'

She turned to look at Antonio, gnawing het lower lip.

'Did I ever mention how genetically perfect your _jaws_ are, mister Spain?'

Antonio laughed awkwardly. 'M-my jaw, doctor Tosca?'

'Yes. Your jaws. They're _perfect_. So manly. I'd _kill_ to give birth to a child in the possession of those perfect jaws.'

'U-um…'

'Are you free this afternoon?' She sucked on the back of her pen hopefully.

Whoa, _whoa_!

'HEY!' I snapped at the doctor, before taking a firm hold on Antonio's wrist and showing her his twinkling wedding ring. 'You see this? That means he's _taken_, lady! And so are _you_!'

'Let go,' Antonio coolly said, plucking my hand off his wrist.

I snorted. 'Like I _wanted_ to hold on to you any longer, sucker.'

Meanwhile, doctor Tosca was groaning and roaming through her extremely unfeminine lady-bag (and she was supposed to be _Italian_?), before taking out a photograph of some sort…

…

…of a very old, _naked _lady, standing in a garden, watering some begonia's while grinning to the camera fanatically.

'I'm so sorry,' the doctor said, studying the photo as concentrated as she could muster, 'this is not me speaking, but the hormones. That's why I always carry this picture of my eccentric mother-in-law, in case I'm on the verge of doing something sexual and stupid. Ugh. Excuse me for flirting with you, mister Spain.'

'Oh, that's alright. I think.' Antonio reassured her. He still frowned, though.

'Well, that's under control. For now.'

Doctor Tosca put the disturbing picture away and scribbled something on het clipboard. Then she looked at me – only at me.

'If you'd just let me, I'd shake you out of those pants faster than you can say "let me think about it", mister Romano.'

'W-wha…?' I stammered.

'Ahahahaha, I _**don't think so**_,' Antonio calmly said, an entire snowstorm blowing into the doctor's face as he smiled at her.

'Sorry – I did it again, didn't I? How unprofessional. Forgive me.' She hastily took out the scarring photograph again and shuddered as her eyes followed every single curve on her mother-in-law's flabby body.

I took that opportunity to give Antonio a bored look.

'You really don't have to play the knight in shining armor here, dweeb. I can take care of myself just _fine_.'

Antonio looked around him. 'That's strange, it's like I hear a really annoying fly buzzing around my ears…'

I growled. 'Oh just go fuck yourself!'

'There it is again! Maybe I should swat it.'

'Yeah I'd like to see you _try_, shitface.'

'Gentlemen, _please_. I'd really like to start my investigation.'

Doctor Tosca uttered a frustrated sigh and rubbed her temples, her eyes partly closed. When she opened them (further) again, she eyed me and Antonio disapprovingly.

'Right. What's the _matter_ with the two of you? You're both distracting me enormously, and unfortunately enough, that isn't only because I'd like to screw both of you – right here, right now.'

'We're having a fight,' Antonio matter-of-factly explained, not even responding to doctor Tosca's perverted confession. 'I'm not even sure _what_ I did, but apparently, I've done something to upset him.'

'He doesn't know shit, because his head has a little brain-eating cicada in it. And it's _hungry_,' I haughtily said.

'You know what – forget what I said, I _really_ couldn't care less what's the matter with you two. Just go. Both of you – _go_. You get on my nerves, in many, _many _ways.'

'Fine,' Antonio gruffly said.

'The sooner, the better,' I nodded as well.

I wanted to stomp off, in a complete other direction than Antonio, just to fuck with him, when doctor Tosca suddenly called us back.

'Wait, wait! I've forgotten to ask you one last, important question that I need to know.'

Antonio rolled his eyes, but turned to the doctor anyway.

'What is it, dammit?' I asked Breastca- sorry, I mean Tosca, not even trying to be polite anymore.

'The names.'

Doctor Tosca's brown eyes looked at me emotionlessly.

'Please tell me what the names of your and mister Spain's children are, mister Romano.'

…

Um…

…names?


	17. Quote 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Yay, over 300 reviews! That's wonderful! I'd never thought a fic about Toni and Lovi's kids would get this many reviews… god, thank you all so much!_^^

_A/n2: Speaking of kids – just what are the names of the kids? If you paid close attention to the final chapter of Bottoms Up, you might know the answer.  
__That's right, I've been having this fic in my head ever since writing chapter 80 – isn't that pathetic? Ehehehehe… _^^;;;

_A/n3: Have yet another guy I had to learn a lot about: Janusz Korczak (pen name, real name was Henryk Goldszmit). Like Piaget, he did a lot of research about kids and the like. But there's one big difference between Piaget and Korczak: I think Korczak is the most awesome guardian kids have ever had. He was the one that thought that kids should have rights, just like adults have them, and he caused a lot of commotion when he told the world that kids should have the right to die.  
__Sounds sick, right? Well, _is_ it, really?  
__Anyway, near the end of his life, he lived in a terrible time – during WW II. He was the director of a (Polish/Jewish) orphanage and when the Nazi's came to bring the kids to an extermination camp, they wanted to spare him (he was a well-known child's author at that time). But Korczak simply said he'd go with the children, no matter what.  
__Together with the children, he was eventually killed in Treblinka.  
__I have so much respect for this guy, it's not even funny._

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 17:

**I never thought a child is capable of remembering so well and of waiting so patiently.**  
_Janusz Korczak  
__(Polish pedagogue, pediatric and humanitarian)_

Ha! That doctor Tosca. She and her big breasts always knew how to make my brains feel like a bundle of overcooked spaghetti.

What the names of the kids were, she asked. If I would be so kind to share them with her, she asked.

Yeah, how the fuck should _I_ know their names – I never named them, dammit, so how should I know!

'Um,' I therefore started, my mind completely blank, 'well, actually, the kids don't _have_… a name.'

'No, Lovino just likes to call them the demon children and give them bad examples of how an adult should behave,' Antonio vengefully said – that's right, asshole was still mad at me, and so was _I_, dammit.

…

Mad at _him_, I mean. Not at myself. No. I _liked_ myself. I _ruled, _dammit.

Doctor Tosca looked over her glasses, her eyes staring at us like our heads had swollen up to the size of a huge blimp (my god, _that_ would be a sight).

'So you _haven't_ named your children yet?'

'No,' I bluntly said.

'Don't they already _have_ a name or something?' Antonio asked.

Doctor Tosca now blinked her eyes uncontrollably.

'I don't understand. You are the biologic fathers of the children – so of _course _you should give them names. They are nameless, until you give them a name. It's that simple. So why didn't you…?'

I didn't like that "oh my god, you guys are so _stupid_" –look the doctor was giving us, so I instantly reverted into defense-mode and folded my arms in front of me protectively.

'H-hey, don't talk like we're the only ones that didn't know they should name those little twerps! There must be more nations that didn't name their—'

'No. All the other nations instantly named their kids as soon as they realized that the kids were theirs. And now that we're talking about your odd behavior anyway, all the other nations also didn't want to wait for the next morning to go to their doctors – they went _right_ _away_. You two, however, didn't.'

'Oh,' I lamely said.

'That's why mister England called.'

'I thought he called to apologize to all the nations?' Antonio remembered.

'Yes, that, too, but he also called to tell _you two_ _specifically_ to make an appointment with one of your doctors already – and when mister Romano told him you were going to visit _me_, he called me to pass on that information.'

Doctor Tosca scowled and stroke her huge tummy again.

'I had waited so long for you to appear with your children yesterday, but you didn't show up. Thankfully, mister England was kind enough to tell me of your plans.'

I felt a bit guilty. I guess I probably should have called her yesterday, yes.

'So,' Antonio said in the meantime, smiling curiously at the young, bosomy doctor, 'the other European countries have named their kids already?'

'Indeed,' doctor Tosca nodded. 'Their personal doctors told the rest of the personal doctors.'

'Could you… tell us?'

'I'm sorry, mister Spain, but I don't have the authority to do that – it's classified information – although I do think the nations will be more than happy to tell you their children's names during the next meeting upcoming Tuesday anyway. Just wait and see. However, I since I _am _a doctor of Italy, I happen to have the right to tell you how your niece is called, since mister Veneciano is also Italy. So yes, I can tell you the name of mister Veneciano and mister Germany's daughter.' Doctor Tosca smiled faintly.

'Oh! Feli and Germany's daughter!' Antonio excitedly said, grinning broadly. 'Yes, of course I'd like to know her name!~'

'Very well, it's… wait a minute…' Doctor Tosca flipped through the many pages of her clipboard. '…ah, here it is. She's called Mirabelle Ilse Machteld Isabellissima.'

'How… lovely!' Antonio said, with a strange smile on his face.

'_What_,' I only managed to croak out.

'But the both of them apparently call her by her nickname – Mimi,' doctor Tosca continued. 'Mister Veneciano has a bit of difficulties with pronouncing the girl's German names, and mister Germany can't figure out how to pronounce the Italian names correctly. So you could just call her Mimi.'

'_Mimi_?' I repeated. 'What is she, a _cat_?'

'She's a very happy and lively child, mister Romano, and she's having a great time with your brother and brother-in-law. They are both wonderful fathers.'

Doctor Tosca then glanced over her shoulder to watch my and Antonio's demon children, that were still watching the inflatable lab growing bigger.

'And forgive me, but I can't help but wonder if your three children feel as happy as miss Mimi does. I mean, if the two of you have argued in front of your kids before…'

'No, we haven't!' I spat. 'Just this once, dammit. And don't talk like it's a fucking disaster! It could happen to anyone!'

'Then it's okay,' doctor Tosca said, 'but I'll have you meet a specialist on the subject of a child's happiness later anyway, just in case. Also, I need to write down some names, so if you and mister Spain could think about a couple of names while you're busy meeting up with that specialist – well, that would be wonderful. Just keep in mind to inform me about them when you get back.'

Me and Antonio wanted to protest – specialist? We didn't need a damn specialist, dammit! – but the doctor was already grabbing her small cell phone out of the limited space between her giant tits (just why did girls _do_ that, _why_), dialed a number and walked away from us to have her conversation in peace and quiet privateness.

Whatever. I turned to Antonio, who was looking at doctor Tosca just as bewildered as I was doing, until a second ago. I planted my hands on my hips and sniffed arrogantly – yes, I can sniff arrogantly, do you mind?

'Well, there you have it. She's calling the social workers to steal the kids away from us. I hope you're happy now.'

Antonio snapped his head into my direction and frowned. 'First of all, she's calling a specialist – not a social worker. And second, don't talk like it's all my fault. You're at fault here too, you know!'

'For what! What did I do!'

'Yell at me in front of the kids!'

'But—'

'And it wasn't your usual, cute "I'm not _really_ angry at you it's just my Italian pride playing up again now come over and hug me" –rant, but an unreasonable "FUCK YOU VERY MUCH FOR REAL" –rant, and you _know _how much I despise those!'

'But you… you _hurt_ the creepy kid!' I nagged at him, walking over to him to poke him in the chest.

'I – ouch! – I hurt him? Why? How?' Antonio rubbed his chest.

'By not-letting him sit on your lap, dammit!'

'But I was already holding the other two kids, you saw that yourself!'

'That's not the _point_, Antonio – that boy thinks you _hate_ him!'

'What!' Antonio gasped. 'I don't hate him at all! Why… why would he think that!'

'Because you _barely give him any attention!_'

I stared at Antonio with clenched fists and a trembling lower lip. Still, I tried to keep my voice strong and steady as I started talking again.

'T-that kid's doing his best to make you notice him… t-to make you pick _him _first, for a change… t-to motherfucking _smile _at him… and yet… h-he probably thinks you prefer his brother and sister over him… do you know how that _feels_, Antonio?'

Antonio's frown slowly faded away. He avoided my eyes and eventually shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

'No, I… I don't think I—'

'Well I do.'

Once again, I felt tears painfully stinging behind my eyes.

'And it sucks _balls_, Antonio.'

Antonio immediately looked at me again, his eyes big and baffled.

'O-oh… Lovi… _Now_ I understand. I… god, I'm so sorry…'

But I didn't want to hear his petty mumbling and resolutely turned my back on him, walking over to the kids. Poor demon children needed some encouragement before the tests and examinations would begin, dammit…

**\0o0/**

'Hey,' I carefully started, sitting down next to Dumb Kid. 'How are you doing, runts?'

Instantly, all three kids looked up to me. Dumb Kid just smiled broadly and began babbling something to me that I didn't understand. Moody Kid frowned, but honored me with a small nod of the head anyway. And Creepy Kid was slapping a little twig on the ground pointlessly, looking sad.

I cleared my throat and patted Dumb Kid's head. 'Listen, um… you're going to get a check-up from that… nice young lady with the big boobies over there in about a few minutes. You see that lady? What a nice lady, isn't she?'

I decided to keep the fact that the nice lady had tried to convince _both_ of their fathers to fuck her flat to myself.

Dumb Kid, easy to influence as always, looked at the doctor – who didn't look that friendly at all, now that I thought about it – and beamed yet another grin at me.

'Niwes lady!'

'Yes, a very nice lady,' I said, relieved.

Moody Kid wasn't easy to influence at all, sadly enough, and just stuck her tongue out at me.

'Anyway…' I muttered, snapping my fingers to get Creepy Kid's attention as well, '…when the nice lady's going to do… all kinds of things with you, Papa Lovi and Papa Toni will be buying some nice things for you, in the big city.'

Because if we had to meet up with that specialist anyway, Antonio and I might as well go get some damn toys already. Killing two birds with one stone and all that convenient shizzle.

Unfortunately, I might as well could have told the kids that we were going to dump them in a bottomless pit, because the looks of sheer horror and disbelieve on their faces were fucking _killing me_.

'N-no, no!' I was quick to say, thinking hard of something _positive _to say about the nasty shit the kids were going to get through. 'It might seem a bit creepy, lonely and scary, but really, it isn't! It's… a really fun... endurance game!'

'Game?' Moody Kid repeated questioningly.

'Yes, a game! That you'll have to play without us! A really… um… exciting, wonderful game, and… um…'

Fuck, I didn't know what to say.

I didn't fucking know what to say, because I was scared to death I might tell them a lie, and I just _knew _they would _**never ever **_forgive me if they found out that much.

…

Dammit.

Dammit dammit _dammi_—

'Well, you all know how scary certain games can be, right?' I suddenly heard a familiar, but peppy voice say.

There Antonio all of a sudden was, sitting next to me and not-so-subtly pulling Creepy Kid on his lap – what the hell did he think he was doing, did he really think it was _that_ easy to win a kid's trust?

Creepy Kid's face immediately lit up as he gazed upon Antonio in admiration and grinned happily.

…

Okay, apparently, it really was that easy to win that kid's trust _but now let's see if he can __**keep**__ it_.

'You see,' Antonio started, weirdly shuffling closer to me and the two other kids, 'when I was around your age, centuries ago, I once played this game of tag with some other Spanish kids. It was a lot of fun, but it was a bit scary as well, because people were fighting around us because of some silly war. We really had to watch our steps!'

Moody, Dumb and Creepy Kid gazed at him, obviously feeling a bit concerned.

'Ah, I guess it was kind of dangerous, BUT!' Antonio poked Creepy Kid's cheek, who giggled and playfully swatted it away. 'It was also very awesome! I mean, there where weapons lying on the ground _everywhere_, so really, _if _those mean men would try to hurt us, we'd just snatch an axe or gun off the ground and defend ourselves!'

'Ohhhh,' Dumb Kid said with big eyes, drooling again.

'This check-up you're going to get? It's also a game. Like that war the kids and I got into, we had to endure it till the end. But that didn't mean we couldn't make the best out of it while playing it!'

The kids nodded a bit, but I didn't know if they really understood what Antonio was trying to tell them – hell, I didn't even know _I _understood what he was trying to tell them – but I tried to explain it to them in words that were, hopefully, easier to comprehend.

'What Papa Toni's trying to tell you, is that you should try to have fun.' I smiled a very small smile and patted Moody Kid's shoulder encouragingly. 'It might be a bit scary, but oh man, think of how _cool _the three of you will look afterwards! I mean, all those other kids you saw on that meeting? They all cried like babies. The game was just too hard for them! Pussies, right?'

'Pwussies!' Dumb Kid exclaimed, and tumbled over for unknown reasons.

'But _you_!' I continued, feeling braver now that the kids started to gather their confidence. 'You are different! And you're not alone. You have your siblings with you! Together, you can do anything! You _can_ _do_ _this_!'

Antonio nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, Papa Lovi's right! You can totally do it!'

'And when you get back from that game, Papa Toni and I will be waiting here, with a nice little present for each one of you, to celebrate the glorious return of the goddamn Fantastical Trio!' I ended my speech.

I heavily, OH SO VERY heavily doubted the kids weren't scared at all anymore now, since I had rambled and blabbered so many weird, energizing things that it was making me dizzy, but when I saw the revitalized blushes on the faces of the demon children, I realized I could be wrong about that.

'YAY!' Creepy Kid chanted, brimming with self-confidence.

'WAYYY!' Dumb Kid shouted, rolling over the grass.

'Eh,' Moody Kid huffed – but didn't seem to have that "oh god is that a car coming at me at full speed" –look in her eyes anymore.

And then Dumb Kid crawled off the grass and hobbled over to Moody Kid, to playfully sandwich her to the ground in celebration.

…

I swear, that kid's so _weird_.

'Noooo!' Moody Kid instantly nagged, but laughed anyway when she saw just how much Dumb Kid was laughing.

…

F-fucking cute.

And hey!

Well!

Look at that!

I inspired the kids to make the best of it! No, wait… Antonio and I, _we _inspired the kids to make the best out of it!

And it felt fucking _wonderful_!

Antonio chuckled as he put Creepy Kid on the grass – that immediately ran over to his brother and sister and _whacked _himself down on top of them as well – and then Antonio looked at me, and I looked at him, and he smiled, and I smiled, and I think he wanted to say something, but then doctor Tosca was clearing her throat all of a sudden.

I lifted up my head, and yes, _there she was, to ruin the daaaay!~_

'Mister Romano, mister Spain?' Doctor Tosca tapped her pen against her clipboard. 'I'm glad to tell you we're ready to start the examinations, and that you two can go yell at each other somewhere else.'

I looked over to Antonio for a minute, who didn't look all that angry anymore, before turning my face back to the doctor.

'I-I think we're finished yelling, doctor Tosca.'

She smiled, but she wasn't impressed. 'Well, that's good! You temporarily have stopped threatening to kill each other – all for the kids. How very mature of you.'

'No, you don't get it,' Antonio said, getting off the ground – and swiftly walking over to me to help me get up as well. 'We're done fighting now, really.'

'I don't believe you, even it _is_ true what you're saying, because that'll mean I've rung that specialist for naught. And that's just unpractical.' Doctor Tosca frowned dismissively. 'So please tell your kids to come with me, and then please go back into your House. The kid-specialist-man can arrive any moment now.'

'Huh?' both me and Antonio very intelligently remarked. 'You mean he's coming _here?'_

She gave us a fiery glare. 'Yes. And you _will _meet up with him, his kid and his partner.'

…

…

I had a very bad feeling about this.

**\0o0/**

Antonio and I decided to say a quick and none-too-dramatic "see you later" to the kids, because hugging them all hysterically and bawling that they should be brave never helped _any _kid.

So, although they did look kind of nervous again, the three kids still walked into the floatable lab with their heads held up high, holding each other's hand and looking so unbearably determined and cute that I had to look away and keep myself from going full-Antonio on the image.

As soon as the big, soft doors of the lab closed – I sure hoped everything would be hygienic in there, by the way – Antonio gently pushed me back to the House, not saying a single word until we were inside.

'They'll be fine,' he told me, upon seeing my now slightly panicked facial expression, and patted my hand. 'They'll be just fine, after that inspirational pep-talk you gave them.'

I felt my ears were starting to turn red and coughed, looking away from him but allowing him to hold my hand at the same time.

'W-well, _you_ started the pep-talk. With your grandpa-story about the past. Seriously, you sounded so… so…'

'So…?' Antonio smiled and leaned towards me, his face _very _close to mine.

'So…' I swallowed, '…old.'

'Hmm, that's not very cute of you to say…' He brushed some strands of hair out of my face and kept smiling at me so damn tenderly, I could even feel it in the pockets of my pants, and that was really, really strange.

'I'm sorry,' I suddenly blurted out, still trying hard to avoid his eyes (and _failing),_ 'I'm sorry that… that I said mean shit to you. I mean, you deserved it, for stomping on that creepy kid's heart, but still. Y-you didn't mean to. So I'm sorry.'

Antonio was quiet for a moment, but then he hummed contently and took a hold of my other hand as well, rubbing his thumbs over the back of my hands.

'I'm also sorry, Lovi. For… making you and that little boy upset like that, and not even realizing it. That was very stupid of me. And I shouldn't have said those awful things to and about you either, but, well, you _did_ piss me off greatly.'

I snickered. 'Yeah, you sure were pissed off! I hadn't seen that angry mug of yours in a long time.'

'Was I intimidating?' Antonio grinned, like a child, like – well, like Creepy Kid, really.

'Pfffhhhbbl,' I flabbered (yes, I flabbered, it's a word) my tongue, 'you were about as intimidating as a frustrated beaver.'

'That's pretty intimidating!'

'If you say so.' I smiled at him and I didn't even know why.

He sneakily pulled me closer. 'Did you think I was handsome, though?'

'I _always_ think you're handsome, you dam-building stud.'

'Handsome enough for a kiss?~'

'Moron.' I chuckled and wanted to grab his shirt to connect our faces and indeed kiss him, but then, sadly enough, the doorbell chimed through the House like a metal, upbeat-sounding earthquake.

'Always, _always _at times like these,' I muttered with a sigh, letting go of Antonio. 'Hell, I'm not even surprised anymore.'

'You don't _have_ to get that, you know,' Antonio said, who also sounded pretty annoyed.

'I will, though.' I smiled apologetic to him. 'Sorry.'

'Ah, it's okay, sweetie. By the way, could it be that specialist doctor Tosca was talking about?' Antonio wondered as he followed me through the room and hallway.

'We'll figure out soon enough, won't we?' I sighed boorishly – but when we stood in front of the door, I felt a lot less at ease and my hand just kept… floating in the air for a little while, before I finally put it down on the doorknob.

Antonio watched me acting all nervous and shit and grinned, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Then, after a last, deep breath, I turned the doorknob and pulled open the heavy door.

On the doorstep, there were standing three somewhat familiar figures: a blonde, young woman, a small boy and a…

…

A…

…

**NETHERLANDS.**

'Yo,' he greeted our astonished faces with a dry nod. 'I'm a specialist.'

Wha…

What the **FUCK**?!


	18. Quote 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Unicef, an organization that works hard to make this world a better place for children, has said that the happiest children in the world are living in the Netherlands. Hence why the Netherlands is considered a specialist in doctor Tosca's eyes.  
__Not to be confused with the happiest (grown-up) people, though – they live in Denmark, according to another research.  
__Also, the educational level of the Scandinavian nations is the best in the world. You want the best for your kids? You want to study and be able to pay it, too? Go to Finland, Norway, Sweden or Denmark. Seriously – you won't regret it._

_A/n2: Because I wanted to know the Spanish word for peach, I did some very bad research to what Spanish people call peaches. I think I found it: duraznero.  
__If it's correct: huzzah! If it isn't correct: sorry…  
__(not sure I'll correct it because of reasons in this chapter, but still, feel free to correct me if you __**do**__ know the right word)_

_A/n3: I'm so very mean with my cliffhangers, aren't I? Ahahahaha… _*flees in a cloud of pink dust*

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 18:

**The small hopes and plans and pleasures of children should be tenderly respected by grown-up people, and never rudely thwarted or ridiculed.**  
_Louisa May Alcott  
__(American novelist)_

The Netherlands, Liechtenstein and their shared kid stood in the dooropening for a while, patiently waiting for me and Antonio to regain our senses again.

Liechtenstein looked rather uncomfortable – and so would I, if I was standing next to such a huge man – but she smiled nevertheless, her hands neatly folded on top of her light-green dress.

The boy – I believe his name was Bas or something, Netherlands had told me that the last time I had seen him – was standing in-between his very unlikely parents, holding on to his mother's dress and batting his huge, emerald eyes at both me and Antonio.

And the Netherlands…

For some reason, he must have thought this was the perfect time to put a pipe in his mouth and smoke away, all while staring at us – but especially at Antonio – without blinking his eyes.

…

And then I couldn't take it anymore.

'_You_ are the specialist?' I exclaimed, my voice very high and shrill.

'That's what I said.' He nodded. 'I'm a specialist.'

'So you know _all_ about kids? Everything?' I continued – while scowling and pursing my lips together in an awkward way.

'Did you hear me say _that_?' Netherlands asked.

Antonio frowned. 'Well, no, but—'

'I wasn't talking to _you_, you dirty paella-muncher.' Netherlands frowned and looked at Liechtenstein. 'Did you hear me say those exact words, Elise? About me, knowing everything about children?'

'N-no,' she said, shuffling a bit further away from him.

'I'm sorry,' the Netherlands instantly said. 'I made you scared. I should warn you, the next time I suddenly… um… look at you. While talking. Forgive me. It can be a pretty intense experience, I know.'

The girl kept her distance, but looked at him the minute he stopped looking at her and smiled – it was the smallest of smiles, but it still was a smile.

'It... it's not that bad, mister Netherlands.'

'Still not calling me Daan, are you?'

'No, mister Netherlands.' She smiled some more.

'Well, that's okay. I can wait.' The Netherlands then concentrated his attention back on me and Antonio again and loudly cleared his throat. 'Anyway, your doc told my doc that I should have a talk with you about the importance of a kid's happiness. And then my doctor – doctor Van den Broek, if you wish to know – told me, and then I told Elise, and then we decided to come and visit your place since we didn't have anything better to do anyway.'

'What are you planning to do _here_, then?' I wanted to know and purposely blocked the entrance, because I really wasn't feeling like letting some weird Dutchman, a shy girl from Liechtenstein and their whiny little kid inside the House.

I mean, I hadn't vacuumed the place yet and I just knew for sure Netherlands was going to make some asshole-comment about those three crumbles of bread lying around. Plus, Antonio wouldn't get a second of rest when he saw his former colony and the weird little family he had with him stomping around his House – the only safe haven he had.

'I'll tell you what I had planned to do.' The Dutchman paused and _awfully_ slowly blew out a small cloud of smoke – and, of course, straight into Antonio's face, who's eyes got a bit teary thanks to the biting shit.

…

What the hell was that man even _smoking_, dammit – solid benzene?

The Netherlands stoically watched Antonio cough and wave the black smoke away, secretly cackling in pure delight, no doubt, before he finally continued.

'Yes, I will tell you what I had planned to do. But. Well. I kind of forgot. So I can't.'

'What?' I hissed, pulling Antonio out of the smoke _and why the hell did I have to do that, didn't that man know how to step aside himself, dammit?_

'Do not fret, maybe Elise still knows what I intended to do,' Netherlands reassured us, tilting his head to Liechtenstein. 'You're our last hope, Elise. No pressure.'

I had somewhat expected Liechtenstein to break down crying or something, since she was pretty small and weak-looking and all, but she just nodded at the Netherlands and, for the first time today, she looked straight at us.

'Mister Netherlands and I thought it would be a good idea to spend the afternoon with you and tell you all we know about the importance of nurture and children's health.'

'That's nice,' I said, 'but I actually wanted to go to the city with Antonio. To buy the kids some more kid-furniture. Don't give me that weirded-out look, you Dutch brickface, you know what I mean, dammit!'

Antonio smiled delighted at me. 'We could indeed go buy the kids some fun stuff now! What a _great_ idea, Lovi!'

'It was my idea,' the Netherlands said.

'Wha-! You fucking liar! It wasn't yours at a—'

'Well,' Liechtenstein quickly interrupted me, 'if you're going to the city, mister Netherlands and I could like to come with you and help you get the right toys and other basic things that are specially made for children. If… if you don't mind us, that is.'

'I don't mind _you_,' I said and winked at her, because the shy, cute Liechtenstein would be the first girl I'd go after if I hadn't been a flaming homosexual and all, 'but I'm not so sure about those other persons.'

Liechtenstein looked a bit uneasy. 'W-well, but they _need_ to come with us. After all, Bas _is _a child – that can come in handy – and mister Netherlands, well… he's the one that embodies the country where the happiest children live…'

'And I'm your husband, so you can't ditch me, either,' Antonio said, sounding kind of sour.

I looked at him and I couldn't help but chuckle. Antonio's jealous face was so endearing, it almost made me want to wink at Liechtenstein again.

But I didn't, because Netherlands looked pretty dangerous as well now. I mean, I never knew his eyes could turn red like that. And was that steam or smoke coming out of his ears? T-the hell, was he a fucking _machine_?

'S-so the happiest kids live in the Netherlands?' I quickly jumped to another subject, casually leaning against the doorpost.

It was a good decision of me, because Netherlands instantly lost the evil, glowing machinery-aura around him and nodded, almost looking proud.

'That's correct, the happiest kids in the world live in my country. So I should be perfectly able to tell you two fail-fathers what to do and what not to do with your kids. If you pay me, of course.'

'What?' Antonio eyed him angrily. 'No way that we're going to pay you for… for whatever you're planning to do!'

'Keep your pants on, Spain, I've got a very reasonable price in mind. Even a poor hobo like you should be able to pay me.'

Antonio scowled. 'Poor hobo, huh? You know what you can do with that "price" of yours?'

The Netherlands also squeezed his eyes almost shut. 'Grab a lamp and _enlighten_ me, moron.'

'I _don't_… have a lamp with me.'

'Then go buy one – oh, wait, wait, that's true… you _can't_, because you're a penniless sucker.'

'I'm _not_ a sucker!'

'Sure you are. Suckertastic sucker. Supersuckerrific suckertastic sucker. With no pennies.'

'Hey, cut it out!'

'Okay. That'll be thirty penni- I mean euros.'

'What the… NO!'

'No? Fine. Then I'll keep calling you silly names that still insult you in spite of their silliness until you will.'

'You wouldn't _dare_.'

'Want to bet?'

'Would _you _want to bet?'

'I'm too rich to bet, fish-breath.'

'You WATCH IT, fork-hair!'

'Ohh. _Nobody_ mocks my hair and lives to tell. Come here, I'll rip your Spanish nose off and shove it up your—'

RIGHT, SO ANYWAY.

While Antonio and the Netherlands continued having one insane argument after another, I looked down, at the small boy between him and Liechtenstein. The kid was shy and constantly tried to hide himself from the creepy men me and Antonio were, but, I had to admit, he didn't look unhappy.

'Y-you're scary…' he mumbled softly to me, burying his face in Liechtenstein's dress.

'Oh yeah?' I snorted. 'Your father is way scarier, brat.'

'No, he isn't. Papa is nice. I like him!'

I noticed the kid had that same mean look as his dad – too bad it really wasn't that convincing when he was shaking like that, though.

I noticed something else about the kid as well. I stared at him for a while, thinking some… thoughts. Then I looked at Liechtenstein, who was watching Antonio and Netherlands (who were currently saying 'grrrrrrr!' and shaking their fists at each other like the over-aged, angry men they were).

'Liechtenstein,' I suddenly started – and she looked up, startled.

'Y-yes, mister South Italy?'

'Your kid. He… talks.'

'Bas talks, yes.' She smiled and waited, giving me a questioning look.

'No, I mean… he really _talks_. In sentences and all.' I rubbed the back of my neck. 'Our kids only seem to talk in… well, words.'

'Really? That's strange.' Liechtenstein wrinkled her nose when she thought about it. 'And you and mister Spain have been talking with them just normally, right?'

…

For some reason, I felt I should watch what I said, now.

'What do you mean, talking to them _normally?'_ I asked her as breezily as I could.

Liechtenstein still had her doubts, though, and frowned.

'Mister Romano, you _are_ having normal conversations with them, aren't you? Because there's a difference between talking _to _children and talking _with _children. Surely they'll eventually pick up some words and start forming sentences anyway, but if you want them to speak with you normally faster… you should try to have actual, full-fledged conversations with them. At least, that's… that's what mister Netherlands told me.'

She smiled a bit and looked away.

'Ohh,' I said, nodding slowly.

I kind of understood what she tried to tell me. While Antonio and I had been talking to the kids a lot, we hadn't ever really had a _real_ dialogue with them or something. They just answered our questions as good as they could, but they didn't need to make entire sentences for that.

I mean… we never asked them what they liked to do, or what they liked to eat, or how they felt… only when we were starting to worry a bit, we asked them something.

…

Dammit, now I feel bad. Way to go, Liechtenstein, you cute bitch with your evil purple ribbon.

'The kids are being examined right now,' I blurted out, all of a sudden, 'and I kind of want to be finished shopping and stuff by the time doctor Tosca's finished with testing them.'

She now looked at me, still wearing that smile. 'Yes? Why is that?'

'I don't really know. I just want to be there when they're finished. I don't want them to feel alone.' I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the ground.

I heard her laugh softly. 'You're a lot more parental than I thought, mister Romano.'

And _you're_ a lot more _mature_ than I thought, for a teenage-personification, I wanted to say – but I didn't say anything and kept on observing the ground, since it was so fucking interesting and shit.

'Bas was tested yesterday,' Liechtenstein said. 'We got him back from mister Netherlands' doctor after two hours or so. Since you and mister Spain have three children, you'll probably get to see them again in… six hours.'

'Six hours? Fuck, that's pretty fucking… late!'

I growled and wanted to glare at the inflato-lab in the backyard, but that was kind of difficult to do when there was an entire House standing in the way, so in the end, I didn't.

'Dammit, the minute they'll get out of the lab-thing, we'll need to have dinner already.'

Liechtenstein chuckled and opened her mouth to say something, but then the Netherlands and Antonio suddenly cleared their throats – and they sounded annoyed.

'Loviiiii!' Antonio whined with a pouty face. 'Why didn't you try to stop me and this Dutch monster from nagging at each other? You used to stop and comfort me before, remember!'

I looked at him, noticed he wasn't hurt or anything, and smiled.

'I don't need to stop you, I know you two won't physically hurt each other anymore anyway. And I don't need to comfort you either, because you're not as easy to hurt as you used to be.'

Antonio's ears turned red. I saw he was ridiculously flattered – and that he was thinking hard of something he could say in response to me, but he just didn't know what words he should use.

'Perhaps you could say you and mister Spain are like… siblings, fighting and bickering constantly, but secretly liking and respecting each other,' Liechtenstein added, giving the huge Dutchman next to her a generous, warm smile.

Like Antonio, the Netherlands just instantly stared at her, at this bubbly, sweet, naïve little person with a disgusted "do you even hear what you're saying" -look on his face – but both of them clearly liked Liechtenstein too much to actually say it out loud, so they just swallowed her words and forced themselves to nod.

As a matter of fact, I also thought she was pushing it a bit too far (I mean, Netherlands and Antonio being nice to each other – that sounded just as fucked up as me and Germany going on a holiday together, dammit), but oh well.

'Well,' I then matter-of-factly said, pointing at the road in front of the House, 'how about we get a move on, hmm? We have got lots to do today, after all.'

Antonio finally seemed to snap out of it and nodded ferociously. 'Yes, and we need to get back here in time, too! I wouldn't want to see to kids' disappointed faces when they'd come out of the lab and notice we aren't back yet…'

'Precisely,' I said, feeling myself swell up in delight – because he thought the same thoughts as me, how fucking perfect, we completed each other so much I could cry _but I wouldn't_.

And then we actually decided to actually _go_ already.

**\0o0/**

Twenty minutes later, me, Antonio, Liechtenstein, the Netherlands _and _that other kid (I'm so funny) sat on board of a very shaky, very old and very badly-maintained bus.

…

That's right, we decided to go to the city by _bus_. Because 'that's a lot cheaper than going by car, and besides, when we go by car we'll need to use yours, and I don't want to owe you or Spain any fuel or whatever, because you make the inside of my throat and wallet itch and burn', or so the Netherlands had said.

I snidely remarked that his persistent smoking also could be the cause of the throat itching, but he just glared at me and told me he still hadn't received those 11 euros from me yet.

'Hey, hey!' I said, alarmed. 'I thought I needed to pay you back 10 euros!'

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at me. 'A_**ha**_ – so you admit you still need to pay me back?'

'_**Never**_.' I narrowed my eyes dramatically. 'And even if I _would_ admit it, I still can't see why you'd add an extra euro, dammit!'

'I think I've given you enough warnings already. So now, I'll just keep on increasing your debt until you'll pay me back. Like the dentist does if you don't pay his bills. Maybe I should become a dentist.'

I decided to ignore that last bit and snorted. 'And what if I _still_ won't pay you back?'

'I don't know.' The Netherlands thought about it, I noticed. 'I guess I'll keep on picking on Spain for being a poor, workless, stupid idiot. Because in the end, everything's his fault, after all.'

I just whacked the palm of my hand into my face in a needlessly painful fashion, groaning.

Meanwhile, Antonio felt gravely offended and flicked the back of the Netherlands' head.

'Hey! I'm sitting right _here_, you jerk! I can hear everything!'

'Well, that's nothing to feel proud about. I don't have bad ears either, and you don't hear me bragging about it.'

'But—'

'Did you get that joke? _Hear_ me bragging about my _hearing_.'

Antonio never had a facial expression that was blanker than the one he had now.

'Well,' the Dutchman said, 'I thought it was hilarious.'

And with that, the Netherlands ended the conversation, if it even was a conversation.

I looked at Antonio and noticed his eyes staring at his former colony all angrily and stuff, but before he could do or say anything stupid, I put a hand over his hand and pushed my fingers in-between his.

'Just leave it, Antonio. Instead of bickering with the Netherlands all the way to the city, how about talking with _me_?'

Yes, I said that. Didn't I sound mature? God, did I sound mature. I could easily pass for a grown-up man that had a safety-kidseat on the back of his bicycle and grow a dad-mustache, just to prove my point.

But I wouldn't.

'Okay Lovi.' Antonio, who naturally thought I was a lot more interesting than that Dutch bastard sitting in front of us, gave me a friendly, curious look. 'What do you want to talk about, then?'

…

By the way, just in case you were wondering how we were seated in the bus: Antonio and I sat next to each other (and Antonio sat near the window, because he told me he was like a plant, he needed sunlight and shit – no, wait, not the shit), and the Netherlands and Liechtenstein sat in the seats in front of us. Bas, the Dutch/Liechtenstein's genetic miracle boy, sat on the Dutchman's lap and had pressed his round face against the window.

…

Just so you know.

Anyway, I cleared my throat loudly when Antonio had given me his full attention and looked down at our connected hands, with the wedding rings _ching! _–ing and everything, and I felt myself getting flustered and unsure.

'Um… I… I-I was thinking about this earlier, but I'd like to hear your opinion about it as well… since you're also their father and all… just what… um… how should we name the kids?'

Antonio made a deep, thoughtful 'hmmmm' -kind of noise and when I looked at him again, I saw he had think-wrinkles in his forehead and was biting his lower lip.

'I actually might have some good names, Lovi.'

'Y-you have?' I said, surprised, and stopped thinking about that one dream I had half a year ago, in which Antonio and I also had kids, also a girl and two boys.

'Yes,' Antonio said and looked me straight in the eyes, his burning and looking frightfully determined, and by frightfully determined I meant that I was getting a bit horny by looking at him all fired up like that.

But let's not talk about that.

'O-okay,' I said, nodding and folding one of my legs over the other one to kill off that annoying erection I was beginning to get, 'what kind of names do you have in mind, then? Are they original?'

'Yes.'

'Cool?'

'I'd like to think so, yes!'

'Easy to remember?'

'Piece of cake, sweetie!'

'Well, tell me! What have you thought of?'

Antonio smirked at me and leaned towards me secretively.

'Mario and Luigi.'

…

…

'And we can call the girl Dura! From _duraznero_!'

…

…

Well, that surely shooed away my erection.

'…the Spanish word for peach, you mean?' I finally said, my voice dark and a bit raw.

'Yes!'

'Like… _princess Peach_, Antonio?'

'_Yes_!' Antonio was almost hopping up and down in his seat now out of pure, raw excitement.

I slowly raised my hands – yes, both of them, I didn't want to hold his hand anymore after hearing _this_, dammit – and started rubbing my eyebrows.

'You… you actually want to name our kids after _videogame-characters_?'

'Don't you think it's cool?' Antonio said, probably already feeling something wasn't quite right since I had let go of his hand but still sounding hopeful. 'I mean… they are Italian/Spanish names, and we could dress them up in red and green, and they'll be like mini-heroes! America will be _horrified_ from the pure awesomeness of it all!~'

I sighed and made a very irritated noise, but remained calm. Getting mad wasn't going to get me anywhere, and I didn't want to have yet another stupid fight with Antonio – who, once again, meant well – so I made sure my voice sounded slick and patient when I spoke up again, like a very mature, safety-kidseat-owning, mustache-growing adult man.

'Okay – Antonio, you're a very nice and sweet man, and your idea is cute, but… I think our kids will be bullied to death if we name them Mario and Luigi. Not so sure about Dura, but I don't like that name either, it sounds like a lame brand-name for some sort of car factory. Besides, I think the girl is more like Bowser than Peach, anyway. Have you _seen_ that face when she gets angry? She can burn down the House if she wants to!'

Antonio's eyes grew a bit. 'Y-you think they'll be bullied if we call them after Mario and Luigi?'

'Well, kind of?' I frowned. 'Come on, Antonio. Isn't it too easy to call them after already fictional characters? Don't you have any imagination?'

At that moment, the monster of Netherstein (get my joke, get it?) decided it was a good idea to gape at us like an annoying, blond little fish. I did my best to ignore him, though.

Antonio wasn't aware there was a small kid looking at us and laughed, softly and a bit fake-ish.

'Um, well, you see, Lovi… it's just that I'm afraid we'll give the kids long names, like your brother did. And I'm not really good with remembering and pronouncing long names… I mean, I still don't know for sure how to pronounce Ukraine's full human name…'

No one does, I wanted to say, but I didn't – I just shuffled a bit closer to him and took his hand again, squeezing it softly _and if that damn Dutchman's kid didn't stop staring at us like that I was going to poke my nails into his eyes, dammit._

'Then let's give them short names. Nobody says we have to give them long names, and there's nothing wrong with short names – I think some of those are way cooler than long names.'

'You sound like you have thought about some names already.' Antonio smiled, but I noticed he didn't really like the idea of automatically agreeing with my suggestion, whatever that suggestion was. Especially not now I had shot down _his_ names.

That's why it was a good thing he probably _couldn't_ turn down _my_ names, for reasons I was about to explain to him.


	19. Quote 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: Do not fret, dear readers – this chapter, I'll reveal the names of the kids (for those of you who read the final chapter of Bottoms Up – you should know the names already)! Ohhhhhh! _8DDDDDD

_A/n2: This… is a very strange chapter. Lots of rambling, lots of weirdness and lots of gentle pokes at NethLiech. I'm so very sorry for pushing this pairing down your throat like this. Please don't lynch me! _*hides underneath a truck*

_A/n3: Well, guess what - I did it! I got my driver's license! _8DDDDDDDD _Yesterday morning, I had my second driving test. And this time, everything went pretty much perfect! So I got it! Yaaaaaaaay! I'm allowed to drive now! Okay, not yet, I guess I still need to wait until all the paperwork is done, but still! I'm so proud!_^^ _I just can't stop smiling!_

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 19:

**My unhealthy affection for my second daughter has waned. Now I despise all of my seven children equally.**  
_Evelyn Waugh  
__(English writer, journalist and reviewer)_

'I have thought about some names already, yes.' I blushed, forgot about the green, burning stare from the kid and didn't know where to look at. 'You told me about them, though.'

'Huh? When? Where?' Antonio stammered.

'I-I had this… this dream, a couple of months ago. In that dream, we… we had kids.'

'Three kids?'

'Yes.'

'A girl and two boys?'

'Exactly.'

'That's a scary coincidence.'

'Tell me about it. I expect so many fucked-up nightmares, you wouldn't believe.'

'And in that dream… I told you the names of the kids?' Antonio sounded interested and gripped my hand firmer.

I took that as a good sign and finally looked at him, nodding. 'Y-yes, and I thought those were pretty nice names. Not too complicated… just nice and easy.'

'You're making me curious!~' He smiled broadly and nuzzled the side of my face affectionately. 'Mind telling me what the names were?'

I swallowed a big and sticky, lump kind of thing (I didn't know Antonio was actually going to _like_ the names, after all) and started pressing the tops of my fingers together, fiddling and fidgeting away.

'For starters, you… t-the girl… you called the girl Luisa.'

'Luisa…' Antonio slowly said, smiling. 'Luisa. That's a Spanish name, isn't it?'

'I-I guess so…' I kept an eye on his face as I continued. 'I mean, I think that name is kind of lewd, and that's _perfect_ for her.'

'Lewd? _Perfect_?'

'Yeah.' I tried to explain myself. 'It's kind of a name only bitches get in high school books and stuff, you know? Like… um, Dura is the normal and sweet girl, but ohhhhh, she wears glasses and therefore nobody thinks she's pretty, and then there's that horrible girl named Luisa that has the looks and gets all the cool friends without even trying.'

'Ohhhhhh,' Antonio copied the ohhhhhh-part of my explanation, 'I get it, I get it! Okay, that's pretty cool, giving our daughter such a name. It's like taunting _destiny _or something!~'

'Right?' I said, almost as enthusiastic as he was. 'Imagine how pissed destiny will be if Luisa turns out to be a **_good_** girl! Like our little girl! It'd be shocking! We'd disturb the universe!'

'That's awesome! I've always wanted to disturb the universe!'

'So…' I gave him a hopeful look, 'so we'll call the girl Luisa? You agree with that?'

Antonio laughed. 'Sweetie, you had already convinced me when I realized it was a Spanish name.'

'Good!' I felt my face was getting a bit warmer, just because I was this excited already. 'As for the boys, well… you told me their names were… um… the dumb kid's name would be Matteo, and the creepy kid's name would be Alejo.'

'Ohh!' Antonio clapped his hand together. 'Those names sound kind of Spanish as well!~'

'Well, Matteo can be Italian, too.' I huffed, suddenly realizing he was right. 'It depends on how you write the name – with one t or two t's. With two t's, it's actually an Italian name.'

'And how would _you_ like to write the name?' Antonio ask, the tone of his voice teasing.

I folded my arms. '…with two t's, dammit, or else there's not a trace of Italian left in the name.'

'I like it!' Antonio poked my arm softly. 'The names, I mean. I like them a lot. But do _you_ like them? Aside from Matteo, Luisa and Alejo are pretty Spanish… can you live with that?'

'W-w-well, y-yes…' I stuttered, feeling _disgustingly _shy all of a sudden, '…I-I really like this… this giddy feeling I get when you say their names… I like that Spanish… S-Spanish sound you make when you pronounce their names… and I just like the names a lot, too, so… besides, we have three kids, so that's kind of difficult to divide – we have to go with either one Spanish and two Italian names or one Italian and two Spanish names anyway.'

'You're right.'

'And, technically,' I continued, now abruptly losing the stutter, '_I_ made up the names. Sort of. So Spanish or not, Italy – the better, Southern part of it, of course – still had more than enough input in the names. So it's okay.'

Antonio chuckled and squeezed my side. 'You sure know how to amuse yourselves with your complicated little theories and explanations, don't you?~'

'You call them amusing – I call them exhausting.' I groaned, sitting back.

For a minute or two, we didn't say anything at all. I guess we were just savoring the wonderful feeling that finally having named the kids brought to us, and we were, quite shamelessly, listening to the soft conversation the Netherlands and Liechtenstein were having in front of us.

Netherlands: 'So. Um. Elise.'

Liechtenstein (startled): 'Y-yes, mister Netherlands?'

Netherlands: 'You… um. Be honest with me. Do you dislike me, calling you by your human name?'

Liechtenstein (turning her head): 'Hmm?'

Netherlands (startled): 'No, um, it's just… Um. If you do, you should tell me. I mean, I… um. I don't mind calling you by your nation's name. But. Um. I… well. I rather call you… Elise. Is… that okay with you, I was wondering.'

Liechtenstein: 'You always wonder about those kind of things out loud?'

Netherlands (musing): 'Yes.'

Liechtenstein: 'Yes, I figured.'

Netherlands: 'So… well, do you mind?'

Liechtenstein: 'You calling me Elise, you mean?'

Netherlands: 'Yes.'

Liechtenstein: 'I think I'd have let you know already if I didn't like it, mister Netherlands.'

Netherlands: 'Oh.'

Silence.

Netherlands: 'So it's okay?'

Liechtenstein: 'It's okay, mister Netherlands.'

Netherlands: 'That makes me happy.'

Liechtenstein (laughing softly): 'That's good.'

Netherlands: 'Maybe I'll ask you if it's okay to actually look at you when I'm speaking to you next time.'

Liechtenstein: 'How bold, mister Netherlands. But… b-but that's okay. I'll wait.'

…

…

It was weird, but the two countries in front of me seemed to be surprisingly _content _with this whole situation, weren't they?

'I wonder what has happened between them,' I heard myself muse all of a sudden.

'Hmmm?' Antonio, who had got fed-up with listening to the cute conversation between Netherlands and Liechtenstein and was now staring out of the window, looked up and smiled at me.

'Netherlands and Liechtenstein,' I hissed as quietly as I could. 'There's definitely something cute going on between them, even though they're not an official couple (yet). It's not like they were put together just for the fucking hell of it – they probably already had some _click_ or… something going on long before England did his magic shit…'

'Ah, well, I wouldn't know and I don't care either,' Antonio bluntly said, shrugging. 'Is it such a big deal, Lovi?'

'It IS!' I stubbornly raised my face and chin. 'For your information, Antonio, I'm still thinking something's fucked up about England's explanation about how and why we all have kids. It's just not natural. So I will find out what's exactly going on here, even if it's the last thing I'll do, dammit! For Pete's sake, I don't understand why you're so calm about all this!'

He chuckled, endeared, and softly stroke the back of his hand over my cheek.

'Sweetie, I'm sure I've said this to you before, but you _think_ too much. Maybe you should take it easy and just… go with the flow for a little while. You know? Just let everything happen as it will happen, and we'll see what and where it will bring us.'

'That's how you handle problems?'

'That's how I handle _everything_!~'

'Dweeb. You're so goddamn carefree, it's almost insulting,' I snorted, folding my arms in protest – but I didn't try to stop him when he softly pressed his hand to the side of my face and gave me some sweet, yet firm kisses on the lips.

I tensed up a little bit and automatically, no, instinctively squeezed my arms in delight, and oh, how much I wanted to answer his kisses, but then a small voice said…

'Why're you doin' that?'

Surprisingly enough, I felt bolt and confident for a change – and without bothering to stop sucking Antonio's face, I took a menacing, daring look around me, like some arrogant gay couples always do whenever there are disturbed during their sacred make-out sessions, and my glare was met with a light green, innocent gaze.

…

Oh.

That kid.

It was watching us.

Yes, it was totally watching us NOW WHY DO KIDS FIND IT NESSESARY TO WATCH ME AND ANTONIO MAKE OUT, GODDAMMIT!

'GYAAAH!' I yelled, almost tearing Antonio's lower lip off with my teeth as I pulled back and pointed a finger at the brat, like that would stop him from spying on us.

'YOU! YOU SHOULDN'T WATCH THIS!'

'Oh, don't worry, Romano, _I'm_ completely fine with him, watching you two faggots go for it like a couple of eager, frustrated teenagers with hopping hormones and stiff things in their pants.'

The Netherlands was now looking at us as well, leaning one arm on the back of his seat and he patted his son with his free hand.

'_You're_ completely fine with it? Why should it matter that _you're _fine with it!' I pretty much _spat _the words. '_I'm_ not fine with it! Make that little runt look away or… or something!'

Netherlands frowned. 'Did Bas say you're disgusting?'

'Wha… um, no?' I confusedly answered.

'Did he say you should stop?'

'…no, but—'

'Did he gave you the feeling he hated what he saw, or leave a hint that what you're doing isn't normal?'

'…for Christ's sake, Netherlands, it's a _kid_ – not a religious, right-wing nutjob.'

'Exactly.' The Dutchman nodded. 'So you should just leave him be. Watching two men make out will perhaps cause him to ask more questions on how and why you would do that, but it'll increase the acceptation of your people.'

…

…my "people"?

Since when were all the homosexuals in the world a new kind of species, dammit!

'He's got a point, you know?' Antonio then suddenly said. 'It's just like kissing in front of our kids – you shouldn't hide that, you should just do it and answer the questions that might come because of it. There's nothing wrong with that!~'

'Of course, having Super Excellent Xylophones right in from of them is out of the question. That's pushing it a bit too far,' the Netherlands said.

'Super Excellent… _what_?'

'S-E-X.'

'Se… ohhh.'

'It's a codename. Because we can't freely talk about having sex with Bas around and everything.'

'What's a sex, papa?'

'…well shit.'

Netherlands would look troubled if he was normal, but he wasn't so he didn't.

In the meantime, while the Dutchman was having an internal moralistic struggle with himself (telling the kid about what sex was would be a bit awkward, especially at the kid's age, but the kid _does_ have the right to ask questions and receive answers on them as well), I quickly increased the distance between Antonio and myself a bit more.

'Aww, Lovi!' Antonio made a face. 'I just explained it's okay to kiss in front of ki—'

'It doesn't make it any less _embarrassing_ for me, y-you idiot!' I interrupted him, my cheeks turning redder than a dying sun – yes, a dying sun turns red, just a little funfact for you from me because I'm so motherfucking smart and kind.

And red, mostly. But let's not dwell on that.

**\0o0/**

Eventually, the bus stopped at a station located in a small, but busy little town, not too far away from Madrid. There, we got off the bus, and there, we decided what we were going to do for the rest of the afternoon.

Oh, and on a side note: the weather had gotten insanely _hot_ all of a sudden and the pigeons where dropping off the roofs from the scary hotness that was the hopefully not-dying sun.

'Okay,' Antonio stretched himself and smiled, 'we've left the bus. Yay! Now what? What's next?'

'It's fairly easy,' the Netherlands said, putting on his sunglasses and pausing like he was that blond dude from CSI or ICS Or whatever the stupid series' name was, 'you and that lanky Italian are going to look for some kid-shop-shit, and then you'll buy that kid-shop-shit, while Elise, Bas and I go look up a nice little lunchroom and have a drink, mocking you behind your backs.'

'Ohhhh?' Antonio pouted in protest, wiping his already sweaty forehead while staring at the (still folded) map Liechtenstein had given him.

'What, so you're not going to join us in our holy quest?' I half-sarcastically huffed, frowning. 'And here I was, thinking you were a stupid specialist! But you're just going to chill and drink stuff with lots and lots and _lots _of ice cubes in it! And you're going to make Liechtenstein pay for it, too!'

'Do you have a problem with that?' Netherlands asked. In the background, Liechtenstein gave him a startled look and blinked her eyes rapidly.

I snorted. 'Yes, I _do_ have a problem with that.'

'Oh. Well, thankfully, I don't have a problem with it at all.' Netherlands shrugged and wanted to walk away, all bastardly like the bastard he was, but I didn't take that _shit_ and grabbed the hem of his shirt (ewwww, sweaty and gross).

'You were supposed to _help_ _us_, you cheap, miserable, tulip-eating _tightwad_! Now _help us_, before I'll kick your dirty ass all the way back to your barely-floating country!'

I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands around his shirt some more, even though I really, really didn't like that feeling that I was feeling on my hands right now.

'Lovi's right, Netherlands!' Antonio (finally) decided to help. 'If you're such a great specialist when it's about kids, then you better come with us and help us out!'

'Mr. Spain and Mr. Romano are right, Mr. Netherlands,' Liechtenstein also decided to mind the Dutch freak's business. 'You can't expect them to buy all the right things when we're just going to sit back and relax here. Besides, didn't you promise doctor Tosca you'd help them out?'

The Netherlands was surprised. He could have easily brushed me and Antonio off like we were some annoying spiders crawling up his arms, but Liechtenstein wasn't an annoying spider – she was his _princessy_ spider. Or at least something like that.

So he grunted and gave me and Antonio a very Matrix-like glare (you know, because he was still wearing those stupid sunglasses and stood in the middle of the road like some sort of douchery dickman) before he spoke up.

'Elise.'

Liechtenstein, who apparently still hadn't gotten used to the Dutchman calling her by her human name, jumped a bit. 'Y-yes?'

'Let's make a deal.' The Dutchman glanced a look over his sunglasses at her.

Antonio and I exchanged worried looks. Dealing around with the Netherlands sounded about as responsible and tossing the demon children and Netherstein's monster into a cage filled with disgruntled crocodiles that had been living on vegetarian cupcakes for over a month.

So we wanted to silently warn Liechtenstein about the lugubrious, eerie and downright uncanny ways of the Dutchman, and indeed, didn't I use some pretty words to describe that something-something I described, but Liechtenstein probably was more than aware of that something-something, since she frowned.

And no, I'm not sure what something-something stands for anymore, either.

…

But it had something to do with the Netherlands, so no doubt it was foul! Foul, I tell you!

'What kind of deal are you thinking of, Mr. Netherlands?' Liechtenstein then calmly asked the Dutch creep.

Said Dutch creep exhaled slowly, as if he had been gathering his courage to say what he was about to say.

'We'll join the Latino Losersquad – but only if you'll call me by my name.'

Liechtenstein's eyes grew twice their size. 'E-excuse me?'

'Just once,' he quickly added, all of a sudden not looking that cool at all anymore. 'Just once, Elise. For… um. For me.'

'Für Elise,' Antonio blurted out.

I stared at him. So did Liechtenstein and Netherlands.

'Oh.' Antonio blushed furiously and rubbed the back of his head. 'Sorry. I… now where did that come from?'

'Your mouth, Antonio.' I snorted and flicked his nose. 'Moron.'

'Anyway,' the Dutchman continued, giving Antonio a weary side-glance, 'would you please call me by my human name, Elise? Once. Just once.'

Liechtenstein's cheeks became a bit rosy. 'I-I suppose I could do that, if it will make you help Mr. Spain and Mr. Romano… but why does it mean so much for you?'

'I love you.'

Netherlands looked away from all three of us and thoughtlessly watched his son hobble around us instead.

'That's why.'

…

Meanwhile, awkwardness struck with all her might, making me and Antonio feel like we were in a slapstick romantic comedy and _totally _out of place while Liechtenstein still stared at the Netherlands like he had just confessed to her, which was exactly what he had done.

'A-alright…' Liechtenstein eventually muttered and fiddled around with one of her tiny girly gloves, her face redder and more embarrassed than ever. 'I-I understand. I… o-o-oh my. I mean… Eh…'

Antonio sneaked his arms around my waist and rubbing his face against my head, sighting, endeared.

'Aww…'

'Aww my _ass_!' I grumbled and pushed him away. 'Snap out of it, Antonio! We don't have time for this weirdo gushy shit, we need to buy toys and other kid stuff before it's too late, dammit!'

Antonio wanted to laugh it off. 'Don't be so silly, Lovi! I'm sure the shops won't close for at least… um… what was it again… well, anyway, it certainly will take a while before they close up!'

'I'm not talking about the damn shops, I'm talking about… about…' I lowered my voice and pursed my lips embarrassedly, '…t-the kids, dammit, we need to be back home when doctor Tosca and her freak show of assistants are done executing creepy tests on them!'

'Ah, yes, you have a point…' Antonio nodded.

'Besides… besides,' I continued, 'we have to buy them gifts, too.'

'Isn't that exactly what we're about to do?'

'No, we're about to buy them toys and plushy dolls and stuff. And shit to dump in our back garden, like a swing and a slide and a… um, climbing frame. And we need to buy them coloring books, and furniture that's made especially for kids – NO, not a goddamn lava pit, leave that damn lava pit – and that's a _whole_ other thing than buying them gifts!'

Antonio cocked his head to one side. 'I don't get it.'

'Well I do. But that's no wonder. I'm much richer than you,' the Netherlands decided to butt in, finally having finished his lovely chat with Liechtenstein.

Antonio glared at him. 'What has being richer than me to do with understanding what Lovino says!'

'How should I know? It's just a nice funfact. I like to rub it in your face as much as I can. So have at you, cur.'

'LOOK,' I said in a loud voice, before Antonio could nag at the Dutchman again, 'I'm just saying that making our House kid-friendly _doesn't _automatically mean we can't buy them each one of them a special gift. You know? A special, personal gift, just for one kid? Because now, we're only buying them crap that they all like. You understand?'

Netherlands and Antonio both stopped huffing at each other to look at me.

'Ahhhhh,' Antonio slowly said.

Netherlands folded his arms. ' "Ahhhhh" is Spanish for "I still don't get it because I'm a clueless old man with a birdbrain". But don't worry, Romano. I understood everything. Hell, I understand the universe.'

'Wha—HEY!'

…aaaaaaand they started going at it again. Now with improved hand gestures and teeth-gritting!

…

This was so tiresome and annoying, I really felt like ditching everyone and go back home. And maybe get a pizza on my way home, too, since I hadn't eaten one of those cheese pizza's in a long time.

But then Liechtenstein, who also had been troubled by the stupid nagging as well, tapped me on my shoulder.

'Mr. Romano, we're losing time. I want to be back home in time, because Bas still needs to do his nap. If I make Mr. Netherlands and Mr. Spain stop their yelling, can we please get going already?'

'You think I _don't_ want to get going already?' I said, frowning. 'Also, what do you want to do to make them stop? Jump in between them? Call your brother? Cry?'

She smiled and shook her head. 'You'll see, Mr. Romano.'

And with those words, she walked over to the two snarling idiots.

Me and Bas – that kid had the patience of a saint, by the way, I can't believe he wasn't screaming for attention yet – stayed behind and watched her go. We also watched her rolling up her sleeves.

…

…

Whoa, major déjà-vu here. Was she going to do what I _think_ she was going to do?


	20. Quote 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: So there's a lot going on in America right now, huh? With the shutdown and everything. We in Europe don't really understand what's going on, to be honest with you. It seems to be pretty damn serious, though! I hope you're all alright there!  
__By the way, America makes an appearance in this chapter. I hope it's not offending or anything – just the usual way of how I write America._^^

_A/n2:When my brothers and I were still annoying little kids with a knack for getting lost in random amusement parks, our parents gave us cool, silvery necklaces with our names and address on it. We thought they were super awesome – and it wasn't until recently that I found out soldiers __**also **__use those necklace-nametag things. Dog tags, they're apparently called in English.  
__So yeah. Guess what Lovi's buying the kids in order to prevent the kids from getting lost…? _8DDDDDDDD

_A/n3: Erik Homburger Erikson (that's right: Erik Erikson – his parents must have had a very weird sense of humor, huh?) was yet another guy I had to learn about. He was all about the so-called "stages of psychosocial development". Because when you're a kid growing up, and you don't behave the way you are supposed to behave when you're at a certain age, that little voice in the back of your head starts to nag at you, and then shit happens – unless you do something about it.  
__Yeah, I bet there's a much better explanation about his theories, but in short, this is what that whole "stages" thing is all about.  
__By the way, Erikson apparently was the one who made up the famous phrase identity crisis._^^

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 20:

**Do not mistake a child for his symptom.**  
_Erik Erikson  
__(German-American developmental psychologist and psychoanalyst)_

A little while later, the Netherlands and Antonio obediently followed me, Liechtenstein and the Monster of Netherstein to the busier part of the city, both of them now moaning and cupping their damaged, reddened ears.

…

Yes, Liechtenstein had actually pulled their ears when they hadn't stopped the mindless bickering. Apparently, girls _do _that when we men don't listen up to them quick enough to their liking. They will **grab your ear** and you will be in a** world of hurt **and it will be all **you very own fault**.

Amazing just how much _pain_ a little girl – whoops, sorry, a little _nation_ like Liechtenstein can cause with those cute fingers of hers. I mean, they look so sweet and elegant and _petite_, and yet, they curled themselves around the poor Dutchman's and the helpless Spaniard's ears like they were evil, dead-spreading vice-grips and jerked the ever loving crap out of them!

And then she was like "well can we all be nice and go shopping together now" and Netherlands and Antonio were like "yes yes please don't pull my ear anymore you demon and please get out of Liechtenstein's body what have you done to the feeble girl she once was" and then we walked over to the city.

Yes, we could have caught a bus that could have brought us to the center of the town, but Antonio and I thought we should save our money for the toys and the Netherlands said he was going to get a nasty rash on his face if he had to pay for the bus fare all by himself.

'But don't worry, it's not contagious for you two gay boys. Only rich people that don't spend their money on a whim get it.'

'Tightwad rash,' Antonio blurted out.

And then he had to walk a little faster, because the Netherlands – who had been walking in front of us since he's such a fast asshole – suddenly stopped to wait for him and presumably kick his sassy Spanish ass.

And _then _both Antonio and the Netherlands walked a little faster, because now Liechtenstein was speeding up her walking, and they looked so scared and weird, running from a tiny, yet extremely fast racing girl and sprinting through the streets with their hands covering their ears like that, and if I hadn't been used to this kind of super weird images already, I'd have snickered and call them names.

…

Oh who am I kidding – I did just that.

And then Netherlands and Antonio got mad at me.

And then Liechtenstein made a sharp U-turn and raced my way, opening and closing her _**razor-sharp fingers of horror **_like she had turned into a living guillotine.

And then I ran for my ears – _life, _I mean.

…

…

But ANYWAY.

_Eventually_, we made it to the town – which, thankfully, wasn't that far away from the bus station.

Once we got on the big, white square area that apparently was the place where on each Wednesday a market was held – because there were people and random tents and odors of fish, fruit and nuts everywhere – the four of us decided what we were going to do.

Now this was our plan:

A: We'd go to all the toy shops in town, and buy pretty much everything that was inside of them. Then we'd told the shopkeeper to put all the squeaky, plushy and plastic stuff into a truck and that truck would deliver it to our House later this day.

B: After that, we'd go all the stores that had got something to do with interior design and get ourselves some nice wallpaper and cool paintings and a random replica of the beautiful Venus de Milo-statue, because my GOD, hadn't I always wanted that pretty naked, armless woman chilling out in our back garden. I swear, if Antonio wasn't creeped out by it, I'd have that baby for years – and this time, I was going to get her, too!

…

Not sure how I should smuggle her past Antonio, but I'd find a way.

The wallpaper and other decorating stuff would also be delivered to our place, by the way.

C: Then, we'd go to a local Ikea-like discount store.

…

No, don't give me that skeptical look, Antonio and I couldn't go for a more sophisticated warehouse; we could even barely afford ourselves Swedish mass-production-houses, dammit!

So yes, we'd go to the Spanish Ikea and get linen and furniture, like bed sheets, lamps, doorknobs, freaky stuffed animals and bookcases that all had scary, Scandinavian-like names that no one could pronounce, except maybe Swedish Spaniards.

And now I was picturing Antonio passionately hugging a blushing and shy Sweden as he said they should make babies, which was so very _**wrong **_on so many levels. _BRRRRRRR._

D: And finally, when all of that was safely stuck on a truck to Madrid and when our wallets were emptier than a bottomless well, we'd look around the town to get something special for the kids and **steal it**, since we would be broke at this point.

E: Also, have a drink in a local lunchroom. We were planning to do that as well, as a reward for our hard work and all.

And we needed to do all of this before the clock struck 6 o'clock.

…

Yeah.

Wish us luck.

And a _shitload_ of energy.

**\0o0/**

The rest of the following few hours, Netherlands, Liechtenstein, the Monster of Netherstein, Antonio and I were busy buying all the shit that we were, apparently, supposed to buy, if I had to believe the Netherlands.

It wasn't exactly something I liked to call _fun_, but it wasn't _un_fun either – shut your trap, unfun is a word – and I actually had a fairly good time, wandering around the hot, but friendly town with the other idiots and discussing were we should head for the next subject on our list.

Yes, a list, Liechtenstein had made us a checklist where she had written down all of our very important purchases, together with little scrabbles of flowers and dogs and cats and an occasional bird, or peacock, or whatever those shiny, huge-tailed beasts were called.

Although we had started our sacred quest to grab all the toys we were supposed to grab in an _extremely_ bad mood (the Netherlands and Antonio's ears were bruised and abused and burnt even more now that the sun was hitting its rays on them, after all, and Liechtenstein, the kid and I just sweated our faces off)…

…things slowly but surely started to be a lot more enjoyable when it turned out that we were motorboat-racing through Liechtenstein's checklist pretty damn fast. As you can expect of motorboat-racing, I guess, since I've never seen slow motorboat-races. On the other hand, I hadn't seen even a single motorboat-race.

…

Now where did that comparison come from, then?

…

Let's not think about it too much, it's way too hot to be thinking about motorboats.

Anyway, so we got out stuff pretty rapidly. One moment we were wondering at a local bookstore whether to stock some extra coloring books for the kids (and Antonio), and the next moment we told a man with a very daring, curly mustache in a completely different store that we'd like to have that lime-green wallpaper with light-green butterflies on it for our daughter.

'Yes, because if we give it to one of our sons, he'll try to rip them up with my bowie knives,' Antonio explained to the man – who could only nod a bit and shot me worried looks.

Then, after that, we were suddenly in the Spaikea (how'd you like _that_, Spain and Ikea put together is _Spaikea_, my god, I'm such a wording wonder, I could cry) and got a 50% discount on all the lamps we had tossed into that weird little cart because the entire warehouse was filled to the brim with sexual frustrated single women in their mid-twenties and _oh_, both Antonio and I had a great time flirting. Until one particular girl practically offered herself to us and even threw herself on the cart – then we decided enough was enough.

'You have all been very helpful to us,' I even said in a small departing speech (I had to do one, they had surrounded us, they'd have raped me and Antonio right on the spot if I didn't do it), 'and you are all very beautiful and kind.'

'Tell them they're pretty dang _stupid_, too, for falling for two flaming faggots,' Netherlands yelled somewhere in the back of the huge crowd. 'I mean, didn't they see you two making out in the bed section because the Spanish homo "couldn't take it anymore"?'

'Lies!' Antonio had shouted immediately. 'We made out in the kitchen section and I actually said I "could have taken him some more"!'

'What, so you two went for a quicky in the kitchen section?'

'Well, there is a reason why my sweet Lovi's face is red and flushed, you know. I _did_ stuff.'

'Yuck. Please promise me to never enter _my_ kitchen.'

'I'll enter other things, then.'

OH MY THOUSAND-AND-ONE GODS.

'Antonio, for the love of crap, _shutthefuckupplease,_' I had hissed frantically, but it was too late, and for the umpteenth time that day, we all had to accelerate our legs to the fifth gear and _get the hell out_ before the furious herd of hurt females would stampede us to our timely deaths.

Netherlands, the kid and Liechtenstein weren't harmed, by the way – they just followed the mob with our purchased goods until the evil Amazons gave up and returned to their Spaikeatastic store, and then Antonio and I could finally climb out of that tree and snarl at Liechtenstein for not-doing anything to help us out, and nag at Netherlands for video-taping the whole thing and placing cactus plants around Antonio's share of the tree.

'Because,' the Dutchman reasoned upon Antonio's shrill yelling why the hell he did that, 'nothing says "I hate you" more than a bunch of cacti. And they were on sale, too.'

…

…

But other than that, things went pretty smoothly, and after we got ourselves out of that tree, we already could drag ourselves and all the heavy shopping bags we had gotten in the meantime to a nice little restaurant and relax a little.

**\0o0/**

It wasn't until we all sat down and got our drinks that the ambiance finally, _finally_, seemed to become a lot more… relaxed. We all had done what we had needed to do, after all, so celebratory back-pats for all of us. Pat pat, pat pat.

Antonio, who had ordered a big glass ice-cold tomato juice, was talking to Liechtenstein (who had a badass _goblet_ with ice tea) about how adorable her son was and his own sons and daughter were. Bas, aka the Monster of Netherstein, aka Silent and Shockingly Easy Kid to Handle During Shopping, was drinking a weird, milky, pink liquid that smelled like strawberries – with a funny purple straw.

And me and the Netherlands, well, we were enjoying our drinks as well. He had a beer – 'Because beer's less expensive than water. And don't sigh like that, it really says so on this dubiously sticky card thing.' – and I had a cola.

…

_What_?

So I happened to like cola! Big deal! You don't know how fucking _heavenly_ a huge glass of cola is, filled to the brim with big icecubes that go "_krrtching_!" when you try to gave a sip from it, dammit!

Or you _do_ know and agree with me. Because in that case, I haven't said anything and think you're swell.

And now you'd probably feel thirsty and like to have a cold glass of cola yourself, too, don't you? Ha! Man, I'm the master of manipulation! Now go to that fridge and drink it all up, you dehydrated sucker!

…

…

Anyway…

'You know,' I started, looking at the Netherlands while the Netherlands looked at Liechtenstein, who was looking at Antonio, who was grinning at Bas, who gaped at me (like more sort of bizarre love dodecahedron), 'I was thinking about something.'

'That's alright,' the Dutchman said, instantly pulling his gaze from Liechtenstein to nod at me. 'You can pay me those 13 euros back in cash, no problem. I don't accept checks.'

Oh for the love of CRAP – wait, did he just add even more euros to my non-existent debt?

'Would you PLEASE stop thinking about money for ONE DAMN SECOND?' I growled, squeezing into my glass of cola.

'I could do that if I wanted to. I just don't want to.' He snorted. 'But okay. If it's not paying me back that's bothering you, which would surprise me greatly, then what else is?'

'You are supposed to be a specialist, right?' I asked him, ignoring almost everything he had said. 'A specialist when it's about the happiness of kids.'

'I already told you that's correct, Romano. Are you getting forgetful or is Spain's stupidness rubbing off on you?'

'Am I rubbing someone off?' Antonio immediately responded, confused. 'I'm not sure what you mean, but should we say stuff like that in this fancy restaurant?'

'It's nothing, nothing! Just drink your tomato blood already!' I quickly said, and grumbled – that evil tall freak was always trying to pick a fight with Antonio, wasn't he?

I turned to the Dutchman again. 'Look, Netherlands – it's just… I haven't exactly seen your knowledge about kids and how to raise them… shine yet, if you know what I mean. I mean, what is it that you do to have so many happy, feeling-good kids in your country, huh? Do you have a fantastic education system? Do kids have a lot of rights at your place? Didn't you potheads know anything _else_ to be better at?'

'Aha,' Netherlands said, for no reason at all, and took a big gulp from his beer. His mouth was now covered in foam, and yet, it didn't look funny to me at all, even though Liechtenstein seemed to be very amused by the sight of Netherlands' foam beard.

'Well?' I said.

'Well,' he also said, slowly putting his pint down again, 'we're not that great at education. Sure, we're still better than you dorks down south, but Finland, Denmark, Norway and Sweden pretty much are the best at education. We do have enough of those rights for kids, or whatever, but please don't ask me what they are. Also, I don't know that much about what's the best way to raise a kid.'

My jaw dropped a bit when I saw, and realized, the man was telling me the truth.

'…but… but then _why_ did doctor Tosca say I should take advice from _you_?'

'That's because the kids are the _happiest_ at my place.' He smiled a little bit. 'Since Dutch parents tend to spoil their beloved kids rotten.'

'That's it?'

'Well, we also don't push them to achieve higher goals if they don't feel like doing that and we actually just let them do whatever they want to do.'

'…oh.'

'Not always a good thing.' He now grimaced. 'But hey, the kids are more than happy with it. Still, I'm not going to spoil Bas. I'll be a firm and stern dad who won't be saying "of course I'll buy that for you" to that cute little face too often.'

Right at that moment, Bas looked at his father and smiled.

'Papa, will ya buy me apple-pie?'

'Of course I'll buy that for you.' The Netherlands firm- and sternly pulled out his wallet and basically threw all of its insides at Bastardly Bas' satisfied face, and I think this was the most disturbing thing I had seen all day long.

And indeed, now that I thought about it, the Dutchman hadn't exactly been holding back on getting his son everything his scrawny little heart wished for, and that's probably the reason why that kid was dressed like a prince (oh, such expensive brands of clothing!) and enjoyed one of the most luxurious drinks that was on the menu.

…

I literally had no words for it. I really, really hadn't.

So instead of trying to figure out what to think of the Dutchman's actions, I decided to take out one of three small, square-shaped boxes – these were a few of the last things Antonio and I had bought before we retreated to this restaurant – and take a look inside of it.

You see, while we were shopping, we happened to stumble across a jewelry shop. It was a wonderfully cheap one, so after the Netherlands had pretty much broken the door down in his hurry to get the fuck inside, the others and I had followed him, because why the fuck not.

Inside the shop, you could buy all kinds of glittery crap – but while Liechtenstein successfully tricked her Dutch lover (or whatever he was to her) into buying a lovely flower brooch and while Antonio was staring at a red jewel that looked way too much like a tomato to his liking ('I swear it's edible… I _swear_ it!'), I went to talk to the clerk, asking if he could make nametag-necklaces.

…

Okay, maybe I should try to explain this one…

In those war movies, or in real-life warlike… things, soldiers always wear a silvery nametag around their necks, connected to a necklace. Those nametag-necklaces (I think their actual name is dog tag) are pretty damn cool. And handy, too, because when a soldier gets wounded or blown to tiny bits, they could always retrieve his identity from that nametag-thingy and sent the baggage the soldiers left behind back to their family.

Or something – I'm not sure.

But anyway, I was thinking: why not give the kids a dog nametag-necklace soldier stuff thing? I mean, it's fucking awesome to wear, and it's responsible, too, because I was planning to let the man in the shop put our address on the nametag. That way, if one or more of the demon children ever dare to wander off from home too much, people could bring them back to us.

Fucking. GENIUS.

It hurt to be this smart. It _hurt_.

So I told Antonio if he was okay with it, and since he was still busy being hypnotized and shit, he was, and within a half hour, we got these cool dog tags. On the front, it would say either "Matteo" or "Luisa" or "Alejo", and on the other side, our address would be.

…

No, I'm not telling you what our address is. Why should I tell _you_, dammit! Take a hike!

…

So that's how I got these nametag-necklaces and that's why I was now once again looking at one: just to see once again how awesomely _cool_ these things were.

'Hey, Lovi?' I suddenly heard from my left side.

I tore my gaze away from the dog tag and gave Antonio, who had just finished his drink, a questioningly look.

'Yes?'

'I think we should head back home, sweetie.' He clacked his tongue and pointed to a clock on the wall. 'We have less than a hour before the kids' examinations will be over, and I don't want to be late…'

'You're right,' I nodded, 'and you have a cactus hanging on your sleeve.'

'Ah, yes, I know!' Antonio chuckled and plucked the thing off his sleeve, putting it on the table. 'When I got out of that tree and looked at the cacti a bit better, I noticed there was one that looked pretty nice, since it had a small pink flower blooming. And then I thought, what a swell present this would be for Matteo, and so I ended up sticking it to my sleeve and bringing it with me!'

'Why didn't you just carry it? You know, like ordinary, _sane _people do?'

'Because I had too many shopping bags…' He smiled nervously. 'Ah, I really hope my Boss won't be too angry with me, for spending this much money on the children…'

'Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you. He probably understands. He's a father himself, after all.'

I smiled faintly at Antonio, before turning to Liechtenstein, Netherlands and the weird little fruit of their strange "love", or whatever it was, and cleaned my throat.

'So yeah, we have to leave. It's almost time, you see. I'll put some money on the table and we're off.'

'So you've finally decided to pay me back. What a wonderful day this is.' The Netherlands still had this stoic look, but now his eyes seemed to be a bit watery. 'Elise, Bas – the next round's on me. Waiter, give me a glass of water and three straws. This needs to be _celebrated_.'

'I'm paying for our _drinks_, you creep!' I nagged at him, standing up and collecting our bags. 'Don't jump to your own weird conclusions!'

'It was nice spending the day with the two of you,' Liechtenstein said as she watched me and Antonio trying to carry all of our freshly-purchased crap.

'Yes, the same here!' Antonio smiled and stuck the cactus back to his sleeve. 'What about you, Bas and that jerk, Liechtenstein? Aren't you going back home yet?'

Liechtenstein wanted to answer him, but before she could even form the words with her lips, all of a sudden, two cloaks were tossed to the side – and there, right in front of our table, two blond freaks appeared.

…

Two _awfully _familiar-looking freaks. One big and obnoxious, the other one a smaller version of the first, only with green eyes. Both had _massive _grins on their faces.

…

_Seriously_?

'Hahahahaha! Nice! And once again, America appears in a blur of freedom and elegantly-cast-aside cloaks of justice!' America instantly said, _loudly_ said, and proudly put his hands on his sides.

'Capital!' the smaller version of America cheered.

'America? _Son_ of America?' I stammered, almost letting my bags drop back on the floor again. 'What the fucking hell are _you_ doing here, of all places you could be!'

'Wait, they were here? All this time?' Antonio said, just as surprised as the rest of us. 'Did you follow us through the village, only wearing those black cloaks?'

'Of _course _we were!' America informed us. 'After all, we need to ask all of you European personifications some very important questions concerning the kids that Iggy managed to summon with his weird Harry Potter powers. And the last time I checked the map, the four of you were still part of Europe – so I need to interview you! Then again, the last time I checked the map of Europe was back in 1999, so if anything interesting has happened to your European status in the meantime – do tell me! I'll attempt to listen!'

'And I'll do the filming!' teenage!America not-logically squeaked, pointing to a small camera he was holding. 'The interviews, I mean!'

'Hahaha! That's right!' America grinned widely. 'Johnny here will film his heroic father and the countries he speaks with. You know, as evidence for later.'

I blinked. 'Evidence for what?'

'For _later_, Romano – are you getting deaf or is Spain's stupidness rubbing off on you?'

'What's with all these people claiming I've been rubbing stuff off!' Antonio whined.

'Wha—no! Look, I _know_ you're collecting shitty evidence for later; you just said that yourself! But _why_! For what _purpose_!' I nagged at the blond, American douchebag.

'That…' America instantly bent over to me (and effectively scared the living shit out of me doing just that) and carried on in a much softer voice.

'…I'm afraid that's a secret for now, Romano… But I can tell you one thing, and that's that something _stinks_.'

'Hey!' Netherlands shot an angry glare to the waiter. 'Did you just serve my son a smelly, rotten piece of apple-pie? I should pickpocket you for that.'

'No no, that pie doesn't stink – this whole mad situation we're currently in stinks,' America explained, finally getting a normal pose. 'This situation… it reeks of trouble, and me and little Johnny are going to find out just what's happening in the second-to-best-continent in the world.'

'Elementary!' Johnny shouted.

'And you're planning to do that by… interviewing countries?' I slowly said, putting one and one together.

'That's right.' America smiled. 'Ah, but in this case, I just need to interview the Netherlands and Liechtenstein. You and Spain aren't that interesting at the moment.'

'Aww, that's too bad.' Antonio didn't even try to hide his sarcasm. 'Well, then I guess Lovi and I should go already and leave you wonderful beings be. Is that okay?'

I wanted to protest – what the fuck, why the hell wouldn't Antonio and I be interesting enough for the Douchebag Duo – but Antonio gave me a look that was telling me to please shut up and follow him.

…

Well, okay then.

So we left the other four countries and the two kids in the restaurant and went back to the bus station.

Still, as we walked back to the station, I couldn't help but think about what America had said.

So America also thought something was fishy about all this kid-stuff. It wasn't just me. And I bet the American could tell me a lot more about his findings, too.

…

Dammit. Hopefully, America would come interview me and Antonio as soon as he could. I'd have some questions for _him_ as well.


	21. Quote 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

_A/n1: __**I won't be updating next week, because I'll be on vacation!**__ Yep, my first real vacation in five years. We're going to Turkey! I've never been in Turkey! Or on a plane! I hope it's going to be a wonderful experience! I'm already scared shitless! _8DDDDDDD _Don't worry though, I'll update the next Saturday after upcoming Saturday. Just so you know! _^^

_A/n2: I made the reunion with the kids a little bit sappy. Maybe too sappy. Oh well. _XDDDD_ I hope you'll love reading about it anyway!_

_A/n3: I think the quotation under the chapter-number comes out of a book ("Never let me go") mister Ishiguro has written. Now I don't know the writer or his book I had it from at all – but I still thought it was very, very beautiful._^^ _Does that make me a hypocrite? Ahahahaha, let's not answer that!~_

_A/n4: By the way, thank you all for explaining the current situation in America for me. I now understand it a little bit better. I hope things will look up for you as soon as possible. _

**~~ And Three Makes Five ~~ **

Chapter 21:

**And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go.  
****That is what I saw.  
**_Kazuo Ishiguro  
__(Japanese-born British novelist)_

Well, I could knock myself out trying to figure out what America had been talking about, or _insinuating_ about, during the bus ride home…

…or I could just sit back and enjoy the 30 minutes of peace and quietness Antonio and I would have, before we would, once again, be surrounded by kids and people that wanted all kinds of things from us.

…

Well, easiest decision I've ever made, dammit – so I sat back as nicely as I could and breathed out softly.

'Tired?' Antonio, who was sitting next to me, instantly asked and put one of his hands on one of mine – the one that was currently lying on my knee.

I looked at him, smiled weakly and interlaced my fingers with his.

'Yeah.'

'Well, it has been a busy day, so… it's no wonder.'

'I think…' I frowned and licked my lips, that had been feeling pretty dry. 'I think I'm starting to understand just how… hard it is, to be a parent. I'm not saying I dislike it, but it's a lot more difficult than I expected.'

'Hmmm,' Antonio hummed. He snuggled closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder.

'You think we're doing a good job?' I murmured, closing my eyes as well and squeezing his hand.

'Ah, well… we're doing what we can, aren't we, Lovi?' He turned his head and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. 'That's already a lot more than some people do, I think… so you shouldn't worry about that. You should worry about whether the kids will like the toys we bought them or not.'

'They better damn should,' I grumbled. 'It's a goddamn miracle we were even able to buy all those things. I mean, aren't our countries in an economical distress right now? Shouldn't they have, I don't know, _stopped_ us? We have spent quite some money today after all…'

Antonio yawned and nuzzled my shoulder again. 'Ah, yes, but the authorities said we could spend as much money as we wanted – as long as it was for the children, they were perfectly fine with it.'

'Really?' I opened my eyes and blinked. 'What, did they call you or something?'

'Yes. When we were in that jewelry shop, I got a call from some PR-man or whatever – and he asked me what we were up to. They had tried to call us home, but since we weren't home, they called my cell phone. And after I told the man we were buying things for Alejo, Matteo and Luisa, he was like "okay, how nice, just carry on then" and hung up.'

I stared at him. To tell you the truth, I was beginning to feel a bit worried. I mean, what? Since when did the authorities care about our whereabouts? I don't remember them _ever_ calling us, unless they were our Bosses or when the country was in a certain state of peril or the like.

'Why didn't you tell me some shady guy called you?' I asked Antonio.

'I wanted to – but you were talking to the clerk. Also, there was this _huge _tomato-shaped jewel I just couldn't take my eyes off…'

Although Antonio's stupid action wasn't really something to become less stressed out about (I mean, what the fuck, tell me these important things, don't let huge glittering tomato-jewels distract you), I felt some of my muscles relax anyway.

'You fucking magpie,' I said, sighing deeply.

'But it was so _shiny_!' Antonio pouted.

'That's no excuse, dammit, you should have paid more attention to your surroundings!'

'Ahh, to _you_, you mean?~'

'No.'

'N-no…?' Antonio, who's a _master_ at overreacting, instantly got this heart-broken look on his face.

'Well, I – would you _stop _making that face, it's annoying! – I'd have liked it if you had given me some more attention, yes,' I admitted. 'But not because I wanted you to flirt with me in public. I mean, you got a pretty important (not to mention fucking _suspicious_) call right there, and you didn't even tell me. That's just stupid.'

'I'm sorry.' Antonio moved his face to the crook of my neck and nipped my skin.

I blinked and let him nip to his heart's content for a second of two (it kind of felt good after all), before turning my head and narrowing my eyes.

'Seriously? Are you doing this in _public_? We're on a _bus_, Antonio! We're not alone! Stop sucking my neck!'

Antonio stuck out his lower lip. 'But you didn't mind doing things with me while being on the bus (or inside a shop for all that matters) a couple of hours ago!'

'That was different, there weren't old women watching us in horror back then.'

I pointed a sneaky finger to two old ladies, sitting a few seats in front of us. One of them looked utterly disgusted, while the other one looked rather interested. She didn't seem to outright like our displays of shameless affection, but she sure was keen to keep her eyes on us. Her piercing, brown, small old-lady-eyes.

…

…

Wait a minute, wasn't that…

'It's our neighbor, Peeping Rosita!' Antonio laughed and waved at the old hag-duo. 'Well, how nice! She and her sister Disgruntled Dolores are also riding the bus!'

'Great,' I groaned. I also wanted to lift my hand and wave at – at least – Peeping Rosita, but she and her sister had apparently found out we had noticed them and they quickly tore their gazes off us, not even greeting us back.

…

…

Vengeful old bitches.

While I was thinking of a way to avenge my denied wave – dammit, there should be a punishment for that! – Antonio uttered a soft sigh, nudging me.

'Hey, Lovi? Remember how pretty those two women used to be?'

I stopped thinking about releasing an evil lawn mower into Peeping Rosita's garden. Instead, I thought about the young, beautiful sisters Rosita and Dolores and nodded a bit.

'Yes, I remember. Peeping Rosita always spied on you when you were watering your tomato plants when she was a hottie of 26, right?'

Antonio laughed. 'And Disgruntled Dolores certainly had a thing for _you_, Lovi! She always got this huffy look in her eyes whenever you came to visit me – while I was sitting in the garden. And I always found that strange, because when you weren't around, she was all smiles and sunshine!'

'They wanted our ass!' I decidedly and very proudly said.

'Yes, they wanted us!' Antonio nodded, grinning. 'And you know what, if I wasn't into men, I'd probably have started something with Peeping Rosita, too. She's nice enough when she's not busy lurking and being a scary lady in general.'

'Yeah, and I'd have bedded that Disgruntled Dolores faster than the blink of an eye if I had wanted a girl,' I agreed. 'By the way, didn't they have a sister as well?'

'Ah! Yes, I guess you mean Awesome Carmen – the oldest sister!'

'Awesome Carmen! Yes!' I laughed and looked at the two sisters. 'Man, she was the best of the three of them. If I had to choose one girl, _damn_ I'd have picked Awesome Carmen. She was so nice and relaxed.'

'Yes,' Antonio said, now sounding a bit blank.

'I wonder why she didn't go shopping with her two sisters?' I mused.

'She died, Lovino.' Antonio gave me a sad smile. 'Carmen died three years ago.'

'She-she died?' I stared at him. 'Why? Was she sick?'

He shrugged. 'Ah, not really? She was 90 years old. It was her time, Lovi.'

'But… she was Awesome Carmen! The best girl-next-door there was, when all three sisters still lived next to you. She always gave me the best grapes from her grape... plant-thing and told me not to tell her sisters! She had such a lovely smile… She can't just… die, can she?'

'She was a human being.' Antonio sounded even more depressed now, even though I heard he tried to hide it. 'And yes, human beings eventually die. It's natural.'

'They can become way older than 90 years old,' I protested for some strange reason didn't even want to think about.

'I guess some people can pass the magical age of 100, yes – but that's it.'

'They… they can become older.'

'Lovino…' Antonio gave me a weary look.

I ignored him. 'I'm sure they can become older. Wasn't that in the news last week? That a woman celebrated her 200th birthday with her family and friends?'

'I'm afraid not, sweetie.'

'Fuck you, I know what I saw, and I'm telling you I saw something like that, d-dammit.'

'Calm down, Lovi.'

'They can become older than just 100. They… they _have_ to become older than 100.'

Antonio moved closer to me and wrapped an arm around me. 'That's enough, my love.'

'I don't know what I'll do if they die on us.' I pursed my lips together tightly and felt tears stinging my eyes. 'If they die, I'm afraid a huge part of me dies with them. I don't want that.'

'I know.' Antonio now also put his other arms around me and hugged me, kissing my suddenly very damp cheeks. 'I know, Lovino… I know. But let's not panic before we have a reason to do so, hm? They can still turn out to be immortal.'

I didn't say something right away – I just looked up at him, hoping I didn't look as snottery as I thought I did. Antonio gave me one of his most friendly, most comforting smiled and wiped away some of my tears with his thumb.

'Did you hear me, sweetie? They can be countries, just like us. Don't forget it could turn out just like that as well, Lovino. It's too early to jump to depressing conclusions already. Okay?'

'Yeah, alright…' I mumbled.

'Good. Now…'

Antonio brusquely grabbed my chin and gave me a soft, long kiss, not even minding the wetness of my face or the muffled sobs I tried to hide from him, and gently caressed the small of my back with his other, free hand.

'…dry your tears, my sweet love, because it looks like we have to get off here.'

**\0o0/**

Few minutes later, Antonio and I got off the bus and walked straight into our backyard.

…

That's right, we actually also had a bus stop _right in front_ _of the House_. Which was very convenient. Almost _too_ convenient. But let's not think about that too much. Especially not when you realize we had to walk to the bus station for at least ten minutes when we left here earlier, with the Netherlands and Liechtenstein.

…

So anyway!

When Antonio and I walked back into our backyard, there was, thankfully enough, not a sign of the kids yet. Two of doctor Tosca's wacky assistants, who were dressed like fucking astronauts or something, were apparently taking a break – and so, we asked them if the creeps were finished experimenting on our offspring yet.

'Calling our investigation a mere experiment! How rude!' one of them snapped at me in a huffy voice. 'We're only doing this for the benefit of everyone that's involved with this case, mister Romano! We're putting countless huge needles into innocent young children and test them with other questioning instruments – but surely we're not hurting anybody!'

'Indeed! And you have no idea how hard it is for us to eat our lunch while wearing these suits!' the other one said, sounding just as offended.

'You are weird, sick people,' I concluded. 'You need help. Or a whack on the head.'

'Ah, please don't mind his words,' Antonio quickly said, before the two psycho-moonbunnies – that's right, psycho-moonbunnies, that was their name and that's what I was going to call them from now on – could start nagging at me again, 'he's just nervous. You see, we only want to know if you're done with your… investigation yet. We promised the kids we'd be here as soon as they'd come out, so…'

'You psycho-moonbunnies know more about that?' I finished Antonio's sentence – and ignoring the look he gave me right afterwards.

'Yes,' one of the moonbunnies said, without bothering to look at me, and made a strange, throw-away hand gesture to the inflatable lab a few meters further up ahead. 'I expect the children to come out of the lab any second now, so why don't you two go over _there_, hmmm? Thank you very much.'

'Also, please stick around, if you don't mind. Doctor Tosca will inform you about what we've discovered about the kids in short time,' the other moonbunny suggested.

Then he and his pal walked away from us, probably looking for a place where they could enjoy their lunch in peace and where they wouldn't be disturbed by annoying Spaniards and Italians.

I wanted to shout some mean things to them, just because that happens to be in my nature and because I feared they had seriously hurt the kids, when Antonio softly grabbed my hand and pulled me with him, as he walked towards the floating, rubbery-plasticy-shit lab.

'So anyway,' he said, gently – yet kind of demandingly – pushing me down on a small bench on the right of the weird laboratory, 'we bought lots of stuff for the kids today, like furniture and things to put in the garden and toys and dog tags…'

'Yes?' I impatiently said.

'But what did we exactly buy as… individual gift for the kids?' He gave me a nervous smile. 'Because we bought them so many things, I don't really know what are the three special gifts anymore…'

'Oh, I have two of those right here.' I raised one of my shopping bags and patted on it. 'And you have one right _there_.'

I pointed at the cactus, still sticking to his arm.

'Oh?' Antonio said.

'We bought a big, old book with fairytales for the gi… I mean, L-Luisa, and we bought a huge, but thankfully _very_ _plastic _axe for Alejo. We were running out of time to buy something for Matteo, but then the Netherlands came along with his cacti and you took one for Matteo, and that's that, problem solved, we got the kids their individual, special gifts and my _god, _we're spoiling them so _hard_, it's shocking people all over the world.'

Antonio, who finally seemed to get everything, smiled and nodded. 'Yeah, we sure are spoiling them. But then again, we do have some years to catch up to, don't we? I mean, they're three, four years old, so… we missed out on a lot of birthdays.'

'That's true.'

'Now, let's hope they'll like our presents!~'

'I'd rather hope they are feeling fine. Getting examined for this long… poor little shits.' I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. Walking around with so many bags really isn't good for your body, let me tell you that much.

'I also hope doctor Tosca didn't discover anything disturbing…' Antonio muttered, plucking at the cactus at his arm.

I wanted to open my mouth and tell him something to calm him down, even though I really had no idea _what_, exactly, but then there was suddenly coming a lot of noise out of the lab.

Both Antonio and I looked at the floating thing, and right on that moment, the doors opened and tons of weird, white-clad moonbunnies came out of the lab, all cheering, clapping and shouting 'We're finished! We're finally finished!'.

After they had exited the lab, doctor Tosca and some normal assistants followed, mumbling and scribbling all kinds of things down on their notepads.

And after _they _had exited the plastic laboratory, only _then_ the children finally came shuffling out.

'There they are!' Antonio said, and we both quickly raised from the bench.

I was worried they would look pale, or that they would be crying, or otherwise not looking too well, but to my relief the kids looked perfectly fine – except for the many, many, _many _bandages they had sticking over their body.

Their arms, legs, face… everything was plastered with bandage… material.

…

W-what the fuck had those creeps _done _with them?!

As soon as the kids realized they were outside again, the first thing they did was fearfully glancing around them – and oh, that look on their face when the spotted me and Antonio, waving at them all awkwardly…

It was just one of the most precious things I had ever seen.

Creepy Kid's face… I mean, Alejo's face, instantly lit up and beamed such a overjoyed grin at me and Antonio – I don't believe I had ever seen a kid looking at me like that.

'Papa Toni! Papa Lovi!' he shouted, and he was the first one to dash towards us in that same insane, bloodthirsty manner as Antonio always did and _fuck if it wasn't just criminally adorable, dammit._

Not to mention how cute it was to see Antonio swooping him off the ground, laughing and hugging him and telling him how much he missed him.

'Aww, you're so tattered up, you look like a mummy! Aren't you the most awesome little mummy I've ever seen!~'

Meanwhile, Moody Kid… no, Luisa, followed her brother, and I could tell she was really doing her very best to keep herself from sprinting towards us as well. She walked over very slowly and paused every now and then to dust off her dress or to, well, glare at me.

Until I got down on my knees and made this fake-bored beckoning gesture with my hands.

'Well, are you going to hug me already or are you just going to stand there like that, baby?'

She blushed furiously and hastily increased her way of walking, which caused her to practically fall right into my arms, which probably was her way of initiating a hug.

'Stupid,' she told me, her eyes a bit watery as she wrapped her arms around my neck and attempted to either hug or strangle me.

'Okay – ack, not so tight! – okay, you can cry now, if you want to.' I smiled and stood upright again, now carrying a softly sobbing Luisa, who was doing her very best to avoid me seeing her cry.

'We'll work on that later,' I softly said, stroking her hair. 'Because it's perfectly fine to cry, baby. We won't like you any less if you do.'

'Hey cutie!~' Antonio all of a sudden shoved his head into my chest as well, pressing a kiss on Luisa's cheek. 'I'm so glad to see my little princess is okay as well!'

'What about the little serial killer?' I asked, faintly smiling as I patted Alejo's head.

'He's fine, too!' Antonio grinned happily at me and put the kid on his shoulders (who instantly started pulling his hair out of sheer excitement).

'We're still short on someone, though.'

I glanced over to Dumb Ki…Matteo, I mean, who was still standing… well, still, staring at us with those enormous eyes of his, almost as if he didn't want to believe we had really returned.

'Ohhhhhhh!' he finally said, hopping up and down a bit without really jumping, and pointed at us. 'Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!'

I snickered and rolled my eyes. 'Don't tell me you recognize us only _now_, you little slowpoke.'

'Papa, papa!' Matteo smiled broadly and pitter-pattered over to us, bumping into almost every single obstacle on his way because he didn't look away from me and Antonio anymore until he reached us.

Then, when he was standing right in front of us, he looked up, grinned even broader and raised his arms.

'Yaaaaa!'

…

…

I groaned and didn't know how fast to grab one of his hands with one of my own.

'God, you're so _dorky_ – you're the cutest little weirdo I've ever met!'

'You're as cute as a bug!~' Antonio took Matteo's other free hand. 'I'll cuddle you so much later, you bet!~'

Doctor Tosca suddenly shoved right in front of it. You really couldn't call the manner in which she was appearing all of a sudden anything other than shove – she really just shhhhhoved right in front of us, and there she was.

'Right. That was a wonderful and unnecessary long reunion sequence. Well, since the both of you are here anyway – could you tell me the official names of your offspring now, before I'll tell you want we've discovered about them?'

'Sure!~' Antonio said, about the same time I took out the nametag-necklaces and started putting them around the necks of the kids.

'They're called Luisa, Alejo and Matteo Vargas-Fernandez,' he continued, while the kids eyed their dog tags curiously, 'and they're probably the most interesting persons I've ever met in my entire life.'


End file.
